To Spite the Moon
by Ninthrys
Summary: Draco smirked, swirling the wine round his glass as he surveyed Harry with icy eyes. It wasn't until the teen smelt a metallic tang in the air he realised that whatever Malfoy was drinking, it wasn't wine. HPDM. Seriously, how hard can falling in love be?
1. Chapter 1

**This is my very first Harry Potter fanfiction, and I'm eager to know what you all think. I hope you enjoy it. Oh yeah, and I don't own any characters apart from Miss Synthra and Mr. Sabarra. I also own the storyline. And for everything I own - I claim copyright :P heh. Anyway, enjoy, and please let me know what you make of it!**

**To Spite the Moon**

**Chapter one: Family sins **

Lucius Malfoy swept through the corridors of Hogwarts, the trademark sneer of his infamous family in its rightful place upon his lips as he surveyed the wary crowds of students that parted to let him through. Their faces portrayed the fear they felt at seeing the supposed death-eater storm through the castle. Even the students bearing the Slytherin badge jumped from his path, unwilling to get unwanted attention from the man who seemed to emanate a deep sense of power.

His sneer became more pronounced. He had spotted some students who recognised him, and had the gall to glare back. Harry Potter and his gaggle of pathetic little friends, two Weasels and a Mudblood no less. But though his facial expression never faltered, he felt his left forearm twinge and the hair on the back of his neck stand on end; he was loathe to admit it, but the power that Half-blood sent out was daunting, and most of it was directed at him.

"Foolish boy," his mind whispered, "that lack of control…"The voice in his mind was cutting and snakelike, and he turned away from the little crowd to proceed on his journey before any of his anxiety could pass through to his master via the painful symbol under his sleeve. It was throbbing, now, and he quickened his pace, eager to get as far away as possible from that boy lest the unthinkable happened. He deliberately slowed his breathing as he felt his connection with the Dark Lord strengthen; the familiar emotions began to reach him. As he walked, he calmed himself by seeking comfort in his soon to be complete course of action. Soon, his risk would be complete, and the only thing that mattered to him would be safe. He was just going to have to suffer some indignity first.

This was far more of a problem for the head of the Malfoy house than many, and not just because of his prominent position in society. The fear of shame was so deep-rooted in his brain that every fibre of his body feared it, and even the slightest dent in his ego would send the man into a violent rage, something not many had seen. Those who hadn't should be extremely grateful, for an angry Malfoy was not someone you would like to meet. A shudder ran through him as a memory forced its way up through the mist of his mind, showing him one of the very few women he feared. Narcissa Malfoy was breathtakingly beautiful, but equally cruel. Her pale face was sharp, her deep brown eyes clever and calculating. Just a look from that face could inspire admiration in most men, but it could also strike fear into the hearts of even the hardest witches and wizards. Her cruelty was accentuated by her intelligence, beauty, selfishness, unrivalled vanity and just a touch of madness. Each of those traits was also present in their son, Draco, who was residing with his mother in the family manor, despite it being the first day of his sixth year of Hogwarts. The boy was nearing his sixteenth birthday, but his youth was overshadowed by the boy's personality. Almost the mirror image of his mother, barring his strong jaw line and piercing blue eyes, he held himself with all the dignity of his father, a grace he had learned from observation alone. Lucius was deeply cut about the relationship he had with his son, though he would never reveal this fact to another living soul, lest it be considered weakness. Their relationship was formal and proper, lacking all warmth, and sometimes the only interaction they would share in a day was his son would watch him from time to time, seeming eager to learn the secrets of power from his father. But it hurt to know that that was all the boy had for him; respect. Lucius could see not a shred of warmth when he looked into the penetrating eyes of his son.

Nevertheless, he continued on his way up some ancient stone steps, his heart thudding as quickly as the echoes of his footsteps up the cramped spiral staircase. Nevertheless, he drew himself up to his full height. Nevertheless….he knocked on the door.

"Come in, Lucius," came the reply. Entering slowly Lucius almost staggered under the force of the power coming from the elderly man behind the desk in front of him, a bewitching smile playing on his lips. Lucius managed to shut the door behind him and recover before addressing the wizard with a curt bow.

"Good evening, Dumbledore," he said, gritting his teeth and steeling himself for the blow his nest words would deal him. "I have come to ask a favour of you." He spat the words out like venom, clenching his fists tightly around the silver cane in his right hand, and digging his perfectly maintained fingernails into his dragonskin gloves.

The elderly mans eyes shone with intelligence; he placed a bright yellow sweet into his mouth; "And what might that be, if I may ask?" He studied the man before him, searching his features for something.

"It concerns my son, Draco."

The smile on the headmaster's lips was back. It was by no means cruel or smug, just…odd. "I thought it might be. Please have a seat," he said, his eyes seeming very distant and thoughtful. But a swish of his wand, and he was back to business. "If you would are to explain, Lucius, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. I assume it is to do with Tom?" Lucius flinched, biting back a mixture of fear and surprise. But the elderly man read his eyes like an open book, and smiled warmly.

The Death-Eater chose to remain standing, but his grip on his cane tightened still further. "How did you know that?" He snapped.

"Well," Dumbledore sighed, ignoring the other mans tone of voice. "I have had my suspicions for a while, now, and I assumed it was only a matter of time before this most inevitable conversation takes place." He twiddled with his half-moon glasses, spinning them around his wrinkled fingers as he watched the Malfoy.

"Very well. May I then take it that you have foreseen my decision to remove my son from the care of his mother, and ask that you allow him to stay here in Hogwarts? I know that the Potter boy used to stay during the holidays, I want to know if the same is possible for Draco." He received a nod, and got the feeling he was supposed to continue. He sighed, inwardly, knowing that whatever mind games the headmaster wanted to play, then the elder man would certainly win. But he was going to structure these next few sentences carefully, and lose the least amount of dignity possible in the process.

"I do not want my son to follow the path my father set for me. The Dark Lord is growing in power, and the time is coming where Draco will be needed. I will not allow this to happen." He sucked in a breath, and with the utmost reluctance, he said, "Please save my son." His face twisted as if he had swallowed a whole lemon, and his insides churned with shame. He felt pathetic, weak, asking for help.

"Of course, Lucius. That is most admirable, and I will see to it personally that your son is safe, you have my word."

Malfoys eyes widened in surprise. Praise? Surely this whole thing allowed someone to gloat over your inferiority, before grudgingly accepting, but at a high price.

"I can pay-" This was dismissed with a wave of Dumbledore's hand. "No, I will accept no payment but this; the truth. There is another reason why Draco must reside at Hogwarts. I ask that, if you can, you tell me this reason." Giving Lucius the time to gather up his pride before the next fall, the headmaster stared out the window as he waited, appreciating the colours of the evening sky. Suddenly his brow furrowed as he remembered something, his tongue moving the sweet so he could talk once more. "Oh! How rude of me. I have neglected to offer you a sherbet lemon."

They both knew what was in the lemon drop that was handed to Lucius, and it was grudgingly received, before the tall man popped the sweet laced with a temporary calming draught into his mouth. The sight of a terrifying Death-Eater doing something like eating a sweet was full of hilarity, realised Dumbledore, yet before he could dwell on this fact, Lucius spoke.

"Narcissa." He said, a trace of sadness in the voice as the calming draught took effect. It became so much easier for the consumer of this particular batch to open up to people, and Dumbledore had Severus to thank for these.

"She…is becoming obsessed. She wants to maintain her image, her vanity through our son, and it is becoming a never-ending worry. She constantly feeds him these unspeakable potions, spending vast sums of money on them both. Just last week we had to suffer the indignity of transporting Draco to St. Mungos because of a severe ailment a potion brought on. Narcissa is not afraid to harm our son to achieve her goals." Dumbledore noticed the cold shiver running through the man who had stood side by side with Voldemort, and sighed.

"Lucius, I thank you for your time. I shall see to it that Draco is safe here at Hogwarts, but you must know that you will be unable to see him until the summer holidays, next year. I apologise for any inconvenience, but I assure you it is necessary, and will be the easiest solution. Sooner or later Tom will ask for your son to join him, and you will have to either tell the truth, or lie. I think we both know which it will be," he ended sternly, his thoughtful eyes harbouring flickers of disappointment.

"However, I shall go along with any falsehood you wish to create, as long as prior communication to me is complete." He chuckled, and the mood of the room returned to how it had been. " After all, both Draco and I need to know our sides of the story." Passing the villain a remedial sweet, he sat up straight in his chair, summoning his phoenix, Fawkes, with a swift motion.

"I will take care of the ministry, also, if they ask any questions. All I ask of you is that you do not allow Narcissa to come into the castle either. No one is to see him until next summer, apart from the students and staff of this school."

Lucius, having consumed the sherbet lemon, had regained his usual manner, and drew himself up straight. He thanked the headmaster and headed to the door.

"Well done, Lucius." He heard Dumbledore mutter, before the Death-Eater strode out, closing the door behind him, and the embarrassing memories that had taken place in there were locked away.

He threw away the key.

* * *

It was gloomy. It was icy. That summed up the Malfoy manor and their family in a nutshell.

Draco Malfoy, heir to the household lounged on his four-poster bed, listening to classical music through an enchanted gramophone and reading a rather nasty book on wizarding history whilst he waited for his father to arrive home. His white-blond hair was thrust back in elegant, wavy layers from his pale face, and his icy blue eyes were malevolent and calculating as they skimmed the pages of the leather-bound book. Despite the luxury that surrounded him, the spoilt young wizard was in a foul mood. Not only had he been prevented from returning to school, but he had to make the house elves pack everything, which meant they disturbed the peace of the manor as they worked. He had read the same sentence seven times when he got up with a snarl, vowing that that constant banging had to cease. Storming from his room, he yelled down the stairs at a house-elf, and the dark threats still lingered in the air long after he had gone. The house-elf shivered, and proceeded to get on with his work as quietly as possible, despite the fact that he had been yelled at for no reason.

However, the banging ceased. But Draco's mood did not brighten, far from it. He stomped back into his room, gnashing his teeth together in outrage. How dare that thing interrupt him? He made a mental note to talk to his father about it when he arrived. That was another thing, his father had neglected to come home at the arranged time, and as a result, Draco was stuck on the top floor whilst his mother entertained two guests downstairs. He hadn't seen them yet, but he could tell by their odd voices that they were inferior to the Malfoys. Why mother bothered having them here, he didn't know, but at least he did not have to suffer the unnecessary indignity of having to exchange pleasantries with them. He wrinkled his nose in remembrance of the time he'd had to shake hands with that disgusting man his father knew. It was insufferable, really, but he would never breathe a word of it to his parents lest he get punished. But still, at least when he returned to Hogwarts, there was no one there further up than him in the hierarchy, except Dumbledore. But as long as the blonde stayed well out of the headmaster's way, made snide remarks only to other students and kept all his mischievous actions out of sight of teachers, the year would go by without a hitch. He had learnt from his father how to deal with people, and he cleared his throat as a small smile of self-appreciation made its way onto his face. It was going to be one hell of a year, he thought, and he was right. Just…not in the way he expected.

Just as he had settled down to continue his book, the emerald sheets providing the warmth a simple spell could have provided, he heard his mother calling him from downstairs. Sighing in irritation, he glanced at his wand in the glass cabinet on the other side of his room, and set off down the hallway, his leather shoes producing sounds that echoed back to him as he marched along the corridor. He thrust his nose in the air, ready to make any and all guests feel unwelcome and inferior as his feet flowed down the large carpeted staircase before proceeding into the sitting room.

The first thing he noticed was the sheer darkness of the space, and the silence. The two guests stood in the exact centre of the room, and not an inch of them was what he had expected. The two people were tall and slim, with faces as white as winter snow. Their ruby red lips glistened, and their brightly coloured eyes seemed to throb with ancient knowledge, and yet neither could be over twenty. The pair were breathtakingly beautiful. The one on the left, was a man so perfect, he seemed unearthly. His spiked hair was blood red, and fell in graceful waves around his face, a long fringe sweeping to the side above ice eyes. Their eyelids were pitch black, and that shade seemed to linger around that area, framing the bewitching pupils. His striking head was complimented by the maroon and gold doublet he wore, and the pitch black cloak that covered all else, whilst his companion, a woman not much older than Draco, was wearing robes of deep scarlet. Her ash-blonde hair was swept back from her oval face, and her eyes were an oceanic blue. She raised an eyebrow at him as her stunning pupils regarded him with surprise, and a small smile appeared on her shimmering lips.

"Draco, I would like you to meet Mr. Sabarra and Miss Synthra," his mother declared. The two bowed, and Draco had to fight against the mist that was clouding his mind to muster the willpower to break their gaze.

"Well, which of you will do the honours?" Draco snapped back into reality as these words sounded from his mother's mouth. While he dare not question the frightening woman's actions, he could not help but feel a twinge of curiosity. Whatever was going on here, it was planned.

"Miss Synthra will perform on your son, Mrs. Malfoy, and I will have the honour of performing on you." The man's tone was resigned and somewhat irritated. What was going on here? The heir took a sharp step back, suddenly afraid. Though his mind was filled with mischievous thoughts and dark spells, he was a coward.

The slightly younger woman's eyes widened, and she shook her head looking positively terrified, and at the look his mother was giving the pair, Draco shared that emotion. He needed to get out of here fast. He spun around, heading for the exit, but the bewitching woman was there in a flash, and there was something not quite right about her eyes. The young man began to panic as all the lights in the room went out with a hiss, and he felt a hot breath on his throat. He twisted and turned in the darkness, horror-struck and petrified as he heard sounds all around him, and suddenly the coldness of the manor started to seep into him more than usual and his heart beat faster as a familiar coldness swept through the room. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a muffled gasp, but he paid no heed.

"Mother!" He called frantically, losing all decorum. "Mother! Mother!" The cries were in vain as he longed for his wand, and he began to repeatedly slam himself against the door in an effort to break it. Failing that, he stumbled around the room, his mind awfully aware of the two strangers and a harsh breathing that seemed to draw nearer.

"You have to do it," a deep voice whispered. "I know it's hard, but it's natural."

"What are you doing? I demand you show yourself, and you can be assured that my father will hear of this!" Draco's whole body was shaking in fear as he stumbled through the darkness, and his body froze as a small sob sounded from behind him. In a last burst of adrenalin, he sprinted across the room, but feel and scratched his hand on a sharp object.

"There!" The voice said triumphantly. A deep groan came from not far away, and Draco crawled towards the wall, his heart pounding furiously. But it all froze as a feminine body slammed into him, breathing harshly in his ear. His knees buckled, but the woman was stronger than she looked, and merely a soft finger on his neck was enough to keep him standing. He could feel the warmth of her body pressed against his, and he could sense her temperature becoming feverish. He vaguely tried to push her away, but neither his body nor mind would allow him to move as wet lips pressed themselves against his neck. The heir's eyes rolled up in a mixture of lust and fear as the mouth moved up to his ear.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, before two inhumanly sharp teeth penetrated his neck, and a razor sharp insufferable pain erupted in his neck. He screamed out the pain as he felt hands entwine themselves in his hair, pushing his head further into the vicious fangs, and the boy yelled and writhed as terrifying images swam in the darkness and he felt himself grow weak. The pain was excruciating and he balled his hands into fists as his blood pumped out of his neck, and soon his weakening mind was dismayed to find he was too weak to scream any more. It was like a million needles shoved into his feet were driving up every drop of blood through his system, and he felt his whole body start to wither and die and the pain slowly drove him mad.

When his father burst through the doors and hexed the vampires off of his son and wife, Draco was too far gone to register what was happening. He could feel hot blood on his cold skin, and a foreign substance somewhere within the depths of his heart, but all else was blunt and foggy. He as vaguely aware of frantic whispering as his eyes slid shut.

It was a pity he did not feel his father's arms around him. It was a pity he could not feel that sensation, as it had not occurred since he was a baby. It was a pity he was going to die.

But that was only the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2: What is death to me?

**To Spite the Moon**

**Chapter two: What is death to me?**

Lucius raced through the corridors of Hogwarts, his bloodied and unnervingly pale son lolling like a rag doll in his arms. The Death-Eater would never have so much as touched the boy usually, it was improper, but this was an emergency! Memories were flashing before his eyes as he raced past tapestries, suits of armour and classrooms, his mind and heart seeming to move faster than his legs as anger and rage flared in his chest, and he swore his wife would pay for this. What on earth had possessed her to do such a thing to her own flesh and blood? She had always been a cold mother, and he a strict, controlling and steely father, but even he would not have expected this of her.

He glanced down at his son's face as he sprinted, cursing his inability to apparate in the school grounds. Draco's face was pale and his eyes were half-lidded, and the healing spell the elder Malfoy had cast was wearing off. Decorum stopped him from roaring in frustration as he darted through the hundreds of corridors, intent on finding the Hospital Wing as he felt the boy growing steadily colder in his arms. He felt utterly powerless, a feeling he was glad to be unaccustomed to.

Finally, he reached the dark Hospital Wing, and banged upon the door with a gloved fist, cursing the woman inside under his breath. He was too anxious to register the fact that Dumbledore was heading towards him in a flurry of red and sliver robes, and instead of greeting the headmaster with the proper bow, he shot straight into the room as soon as the door was opened by an exhausted looking Madam Pomfrey. He gently placed his son on a bed, and then chose to try and regain some respect by ordering the portly woman around. But he was beaten to it by…

"Poppy," Dumbledore said quietly, seeking to calm the woman as she breathed rapidly at the sight of the young Malfoy heir. "Poppy, please do not fret. Draco is harmless, and in need of your assistance. I ask that you attend to him as you would any other patient. He will not harm you."

The woman nodded nervously, and shuffled into a cupboard where Lucius could see her collecting ingredients with the help of her wand. He was furious. Why were these people not moving faster, and for heaven's sake, why was Dumbledore so bloody calm? Gritting his teeth, he summoned a house elf from the manor to tend to the blood gushing from his son's neck as he himself cleared the blood from his own robes with a cleaning charm.

Eventually, hours later it seemed, the blasted woman had collected her ingredients and hurried over to his son.

"Lucius," Dumbledore called softly. "I appreciate your anxiety; however I must ask that you leave Draco in the perfectly capable hands of Poppy. I assure you, she will do her very best." But the Death-Eater snarled, and whipped round to face the headmaster, failing to stop the pent-up rage bursting from him.

"Do you expect me to leave my son in the hands of this fool?" He hissed, provoked by the torment of emotions floundering beneath his skin, and his eyes flashing with malice, but they quickly displayed fear as his brain registered the look on Dumbledore's features. He took a step back, eager to submit to those piercing eyes.

"Lucius, please. I will not stand for anyone insulting my staff. Poppy is perfectly capable of handling the situation." He sent the other man a look of warning that would have made anyone squirm in fear. "Now I have to request that we leave Madam Pomfrey in peace."

Everyone knew full well it was an order.

* * *

Draco was vaguely aware of the searing pain. His entire body was numb with it, but his mind was horrifyingly focused in on the sensation of blood pumping out of his neck. It seemed ironic that the thing that he relied on it to live would kill him in the end, even though it was working perfectly. His pulse. Weakly, he tried to command the blood flow to travel elsewhere, somewhere else but towards that gaping hole in his neck.

He couldn't focus on anything but the sensation of his heart slowing, and his breath rate decreasing as his own blood betrayed him. He felt a gut-wrenching fear as his slowed mind realised various organs were shutting themselves down, giving up hope. His cowardly instincts went into overdrive, as well as his controlling nature, but the physical problems his body was facing could not be solved by his psyche. Far off, he heard voices mumbling and chattering, he willed them to cease their incessant noise and help him! And then the magic shot through him like a thunderbolt, freezing his veins and replacing the lost blood with a foreign substitute. He relished the sensation of various organs kick-starting themselves up again, his dominant nature flared within him, and he felt his very soul cry out in hope. But then, he realised this could be a mixed blessing as the skin around his neck was closed, and a deathly cold sensation began to shoot along his veins. His mouth twitched, a feeble effort to cry out to the hands that were sweeping softly over his neck, but to no avail. He wanted to scream, shout, yell, sob, cry! The sickening fear returned in a gush, and the young man willed himself to fight back against the dark terror, but the most that he could manage was the odd pitiful twitch, which certainly didn't halt the spread of the terrifying liquid flowing through his blood stream. It coursed through his fingers and toes, and he could feel every drop of it enter his system as it was picked up by the various cells passing near the vampirian puncture. It seemed to circle his core, and Draco had never been more scared in his miserable, solitary little life. A feverish heat swept over every inch of his skin, a worrying contrast to the ice he felt in his veins, and his neck and back arched as a few drops of the poison dared to reach forth and snatch at his heart.

But suddenly, hands were holding him down, strong hands, powerful hands, different from the previous pair. His skin was set alight by their touch, and the magic that came from them was sent shooting through his system, demolishing the foreign substance and devouring it. Other hands joined in, but the fire still remained from the first. Warmth and chill spread to the areas that required them, and sparks of magic assisted Draco's blood cells in the war against the dark molecules that ripped up the walls of the veins, and tore at any muscle they could find. Half of his body was consumed in warm glow, the other in the two extremes that burned his flesh, licked at it like tongues of flame.

The tide of the inwardly battle was turning, but not before a few tendrils of the dark liquid reared back like a serpent, and struck viciously at the heir's fleshy heart. The immense pain that followed was not felt, however, because the young boy's consciousness was extinguished like a candle.

It became so dark.

* * *

Harry Potter sat in Dumbledore's office, and the two wore solemn expressions indeed.

"Harry, I apologise. That was something you didn't need to see." Dumbledore sighed, gazing into the haunted green eyes of the boy in front of him. "Had you not been suffering from injury in the wing at the time, I would never have allowed someone as young as you to see that."

He had seen worse, Harry reasoned, recalling the grotesque memory of his visit to the graveyard during this fourth year. Instead of conveying this, he simply said;

"Who was it, a Death-Eater?" Dumbledore's eyes flickered with remorse as he was vaguely horrified to realise that Draco had become so unrecognisable in such a short space of time. Granted, the Malfoy boy and Harry had been verging towards enemies for some time now, but surely the green-eyed teen would have been able to recognise his fellow student?

"No, Harry. I'm afraid that was Draco Malfoy."

Harry visibly stiffened. Draco? Draco Malfoy? The young man whom he despised? He recoiled at the image of his unrecognisable classmate thrashing around on the hospital bed, and despite previous events, Harry's warm heart felt a twinge of sympathy. Which, he recalled with a bitter chill, was more than any Malfoy had ever shown him.

"That's disgusting." He did not mean it in a way the young heir would have. Dumbledore knew what he meant, that someone could be so treated and subjected to something like that. Glancing at Harry's face, he noted the slightly curled upper lip and the narrowed eyes, an expression of distaste if ever there was one.

"Harry, I must first tell you that what I am about to ask of you is neither a duty nor a privilege. During the next few months, Draco will undergo a series of significant changes at certain times of the month, and I ask that you stand by him through these times. Considering his lack of family ties now, I regret to inform you that young Mr. Malfoy has no one else."

"His father disowned him?" The expression of distaste worsened, and Harry was so appalled, repulsed at another human's actions that he felt physically sick.

"In a manner of speaking, yes, he has. Which is why I must ask you to do this. I know that the pair of you have not seen eye to eye since you arrival at this school, but I ask that you endeavour to put differences aside and support him. You of all people know what it is like to suffer because of something out of one's control. Otherwise, I would not even consider asking." He watched the boy for emotion as he spoke, and saw plenty.

Firstly, Harry was disgusted at the Death-Eater and his inhumane, cruel actions. But then his countenance showed horror as he realised what Dumbledore was asking him to do.

"Of course, we both know that Draco will not seem to appreciate the help at first, and will most likely be rude and offensive, but I hope that as time goes by he will come to see that the help you offer is not in any way and attempt to wound his reputation. The Malfoys cherish their vast amounts of dignity and self respect, and we can expect the same from the youngest family-"he paused to correct himself, "-from someone of their blood."

Harry snorted, knowing full well that if previous experience was anything to go by, Malfoy would be as spiteful, spoilt and arrogant as he had always been. Perhaps excluding spoilt.

"Well Harry. The time has come to decide on your course of action."

Harry still could not stand the thought of aiding his enemy. The whole idea made him shudder, and remember all the ghastly interactions they had shared in the past. But the newest memory of Draco inspired something unexpected. Pity. Of all the people in the world, Malfoy was the one of the very few whom he never thought he would feel this for.

"But what am I supposed to do?"

Taking this as a "yes" Dumbledore relaxed in his chair, and held out his precious bowl of regular sherbet lemons to the young wizard.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something, Harry. After all, you are quite good at that sort of thing."

* * *

**A/N: I just thought I'd clear some things up before everyone gets super confused. The legends of vampires vary greatly from story to story, with people adding bits in and taking bits out. My vampire characters do not make the full step from human to vampire immediately, some things (mainly fluff :D) have to happen first, and as the title implies, the lunar cycle will play a major part in this. And before you ask, no. Draco will not have women problems. That is just so wrong on so many levels….**

**Anyway, if anyone has any interesting snippets of information on vampires, I will be very glad to hear of them, and shall obviously give full credit to them if I use bits of it in my story.**

**One more thing-I hopefully will have a beta reader for my next chapter, so things will all be better :P**

Thanks for all the alerts and reviews guys! I really appreciate them, and I'm sure you know they keep people going, especially since I have an annoying habit of running out of ideas in the middle of stories. T^T

XxquidditchxbeaterX- Thanks! I'm always terrified of mucking up the first chapter and ruining the entire story :S

Sakura Butterfly - Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've never so much as read a vampire fic before, let alone a HPDM one, which may prove to be my downfall. If you know of any good ones, could you please send me a link? It would be much appreciated ^-^

Yana5- Thanks! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. :P


	3. Chapter 3:The Forbidden Forest

**To Spite the Moon**

**Chapter Three: The Forbidden Forest**

Almost a week had passed since Harry's last conversation with his headmaster, and he was beginning to relax a little. He had seen neither hide nor hair of Draco, and was exceedingly glad to think that perhaps he would not have to talk to the loathsome heir at all.

The rain had come rolling down from the mountains, and the whole castle was shrouded in grey mist as thousands of raindrops hurled themselves down on the turrets and towers from a gloomy sky. And yet Hogwarts was still in high spirits, Harry noted as he fought his way through the waves of students, pulling Ron and Hermione along with him. He almost dropped his bag and quill as people continuously bashed into him and each other in a vain attempt to reach all their separate destinations. He couldn't hear a thing; the noise all of the young witches and wizards were making drowned out all else, and he smiled to himself as he tugged at his friend's wrists, battling their way towards their transfiguration class. Hogwarts was truly his home.

They burst through the doors, pushed through by several other Gryffindors endeavouring to get inside, away from the vast stream of people. Enchanted paper swans swooped above their heads as two young men sporting green hemmed robes waved their wands around the classroom. Hermione broke away from her two friends to go and sit beside a newcomer, who looked pale and frightened at the scene playing out around her. Her wide blue eyes were transfixed at the wand before her, seemingly expecting it to stand up and dance in front of her face. Harry and Ron watched Hermione sit down next to her, and so, shrugging, they set off to find their own desk. It was the first transfiguration lesson of the year, but already the seating plan was being wordlessly established by the members of the two houses that occupied the room.

"So, Harry," Ron said thoughtfully. "What d'you reckon Hagrid will be like as a teacher this year?" He looked somewhat tentatively down at the book they had collected in preparation for their next lesson, Care of Magical Creatures. Somewhat scaly in appearance, it reminded Harry of the book Hagrid had set in his third year, so he had taken no chances with this one. He fished it out from his bag, checking the five belts were still placed firmly around it, and the padlock on a small enchanted chain was still locked and secure. Ron looked a little more worried as he saw Harry's and poked his own experimentally. When nothing happened, Ron eyed it cautiously before setting it into his bag. He paled as an odd sound came from it, and he quickly zipped up the satchel and shoved it underneath his desk. Alarmed, Harry followed suit as Professor McGonagall strode into the classroom, and all fell silent.

And so they began the lengthy process of learning how to change Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans into larger, more substantial food. Neville somehow managed to set fire to his, which caused a joyful break in the strained silence as the class descended into a happy uproar. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye Crabbe and Goyle sitting in the far corner, unsure of what to do and how to act. So they simply sat there, staring, slack-jawed as they watched the unnecessary pandemonium the Herbology prodigy had caused.

After a hefty amount of points being taken from both houses, the head of Gryffindor dismissed them, but not without a few detentions. Clearly displeased with the behaviour of students in her own house, she kept a few behind, and the trio could hear her stern voice as they headed off down the corridor, once again waging war against the crowds.

Eventually, they made it down to Hagrid's hut, which was where their timetables had said their lesson would be held. Sadly, the rain had continued, so they proceeded to run across the grounds with their transfiguration class down towards the half-giant, who was tending to a few brightly coloured animals. Seeing his class coming, he bundled all of the small creatures into a separate place, and winked at Harry from across the grass. Harry had a sinking feeling he'd be seeing a lot more of those things, and Ron's face paled as a small jet of flame came from their pen; he whispered something under his breath.

"Right. I've got a treat for ye' all today!" He declared, his booming voice stretching out so all of his pupils could hear, as the rain wetted his hair and beard.

Harry sighed as they settled into an empty stable and began to learn how to care for some rather nasty-looking Lamrian, a type of snake with some seriously un-snakelike qualities. Hermione smiled contentedly as hers was pampered, whilst Ron sent many an envious glare her way as he fought against his, trying in vain to get it to lie still.

Hagrid wandered round the various stalls, getting wetter and wetter as he congratulated his students, and hastily separated some when needs be. In all, it was rather peaceful after Ron and Neville teamed up against their Lamrian, especially when Hermione took pity and offered a hand. They all worked fine for a dozen or so minutes, and Harry found himself staring straight ahead into the inky darkness of the forbidden forest. It was hypnotizing, really, the way the shadows flickered in accordance to the dull grey light, and the trees creaked as the wind blew the droplets through them.

Just then, a bloodcurdling scream sounded from deep inside the woods, and the entire class jumped. Harry's Lamrian hissed as Hagrid whipped round and sprinted off towards the forest, grabbing his tattered umbrella on the way.

"Stay here, the lot o' ye'!" He called, before disappearing into the darkness. The entire class stood stock still, and the green-eyed Gryffindor rose to his feet, and leant over the stable door to look to his left, swiping irritably at his glasses as the rain obscured his vision.

Students from all along the stables poked their heads out, looking towards the spot where Hagrid had disappeared.

"What's going on? Blaise Zabini demanded, his eyes glittering with curiosity and just a hint of fear.

"Well how are we supposed to know?" Snapped Hermione as she joined Harry at the gate to their stable, glaring at the dark-skinned boy a few metres away from her as he stepped out into the rain. Crabbe and Goyle, spotting a potential fill-in leader for Draco, immediately shuffled into position, flanking Blaise on either side as the weather beat against them. "Honestly, what a bunch of morons," Hermione muttered, turning back into her stall, and crouching down next to Ron.

Harry was oblivious to this as he continued to stare into the darkness of the woods. That scream he had heard was definitely feminine; something was not quite right here. His eyes flitted round the stables as Hermione sighed and cast a cleaning charm on his glasses, and suddenly she was joined on the floor by Harry as he thought of something,

"Hermione, where's that girl you were sitting next to in Transfiguration?"

She looked confused. "What? D-Do you mean Ethel?" Her face relaxed as she realised what Harry meant. "Oh, no, Harry! She doesn't take Care of Magical Creatures, she can't have been in there."

He nodded, glad that he had made a mistake. He had wondered if the girl had snuck off into the woods without anyone noticing. But then, again, no one would be that stupid.

"I'm going in!" Announced Blaise, much to the dismay of his classmates.

Harry rolled his eyes. Maybe not. He raised an eyebrow at Blaise from behind the stable door, noting how the boy stood, sticking his nose high into the air and looking unnervingly like Malfoy. It occurred to him that once the ringleader of the Slytherins had disappeared, it was only a matter of time before someone else stood up to take his place. Hermione seemed to share this thought with him, and they smirked at each other, much to the annoyance of Blaise.

Harry had not been sworn to secrecy. Dumbledore knew that even if he forbade him from telling, nothing would stop Harry from informing his two closest friends of the truth. But it was an unspoken rule that he should not relay the information to anyone else, and both knew that Harry wouldn't do so.

Blaise drew himself up to his full height, and marched towards the forest in full view of everyone. But he paused when he realised that Crabbe and Goyle were hesitating a few metres behind him, unsure.

"Well come on!" Zabini barked, and the two cronies, glad to have someone to tell them what to do, fell into place on either side of him. Just as they were about to enter, Hagrid came striding back out, looking battered. On his left limped a female centaur, her arm and flank bleeding badly. She grimaced in pain as she walked, and Harry noticed purple liquid oozing from a wound on her stomach.

"Righ', sorry abou' that, you lot. I won' be long," Hagrid announced, and with that, he helped the centaur up to the castle, as the rest of the class watched in silence.

"Filthy half-bloods!" Blaise spat, glowering at the retreating figures. Harry's head snapped round towards Blaise, feeling anger start to boil up in his stomach. Rage flickered in his emerald eyes, and Ron hastily stood up next to him, spotting the familiar signs his friend was giving off when riled. They had both noticed that Blaise had waited until the pair were a safe distance away before making his snide comment.

"Yes, Potter. You heard me. Fil-thy, dis-gusting, freaks!" With each syllable, Blaise looked more and more smug. He was extremely pleased with himself, in fact; it wasn't turning out to be difficult - living up to Malfoy was astonishingly easy.

Harry flinched as the insults to the centaur and Hagrid hit him like physical blows, and Ron's hand shot out to hold him back. Shaking his friend off, Harry struggled to suppress his own emotions, balling his shaking hands into fists and gritting his teeth.

Blaise had opened his mouth to make another remark, but stopped as a thunderclap made everyone jump once more. Deciding his image was pumped up enough, he retreated back to lean nonchalantly against one of the trees on the edge of the forbidden forest as Hagrid exited the doors of Hogwarts in the distance. He jogged towards them, and when he drew closer everyone saw that one of his enormous hands had a bandage wrapped tightly around.

"Oi! Blaise, what are y' doin' outta yer stable? I though' I told yer to stay put." Muttering furiously, the boy stalked back to his place, followed by his two new henchmen.

"But anyways, it's the end of yer lesson. Get back up there before this gets too bad." He jerked his head in the direction of the dark grey sky, and proceeded to lock the gates of the stables as his students filed out, holding their books above their heads as they sprinted back to the castle. Harry was not the only one who noticed Hagrid shoot several wary looks in the direction of the forest.

* * *

Before you ask, Lamrian do not exist in the Harry Potter world, I just made them up as well as the puppies Hagrid had. They're not very interesting, I know, but hopefully the forest will have you confused, though probably not for long.

I apologise for the lack of length in this chapter, I've been a bit rushed today, but I felt I owed it to you guys because of all the brilliant reviews I've been getting. I enjoy reading them all, and will always post replies to them in the actual chapters, simply because that's the way I do things.

My betareader, Aki Vos, has told me about some areas which I could improve on, and so I hope this chapter flows better, yet I am still unhappy with it. Whatever I do, the words don't seem to come out right and it's extremely infuriating, especially since I just read a truly awful fanfic and it occurred to me that mine may be seen the same way. *shiver*

On a different note, Malfoy is going to make his grand appearance at Hogwarts in the next chap, and if anyone has any ideas I will be very grateful. Thanks for reading!

**Yana5: Thank you for your review and concern! Yes, they're alright…for now. T^T**

**Celestialuna: Thanks for your two reviews; hopefully this chapter will have been good, too! ^-^**

**Stormy332: Woah! I must admit, your review made me laugh a lot! Heh, yes, she does have a reason, and you'll find out later on in the story.**

**Sakura Butterfly: Really? To be honest it just makes me very nervous J I'm sorry this chapter will have been not like the other ones, for some reason I found it terribly difficult to write. And thanks for the suggestion! I will read it ASAP and talk to you about it soon.**

**Sinful Sakura: Thanks for your review, I hope you liked this chapter, too O.o that rhymed!**


	4. Chapter 4: The first week

Still it rained. The window of the Gryffindor boys dormitory was covered in thousands of droplets making it difficult for the young, emerald-eyed wizard to see through the glass. If he were Hermione he would know a dozen different spells to rectify the current problem but he had had bigger things to worry about in the past than exams and schoolwork. Sometimes he envied his two close friends. Despite their deep connection to him, they could not fully understand the pressure on Harry's shoulders that had been mounting for years. Though they had experienced their fair share of darkness, he had experienced far more, and to this day his mind was still plagued by the never-ending worry and pain he had to bear alone. Of course there were many people he could turn to, but Harry never felt truly comfortable doing so. Nevertheless he pushed his glasses further up his nose. He reached for a quill and parchment to compose a letter to his godfather.

These letters never consisted of anything of importance these days as he could never tell what company Sirius may be in at the time his letter reached him. Still the letters were a great release of pressure for the young teen; he wrote about the completely average parts of his life, writing in depth about his schoolwork or complaining about the vast amounts of homework. The wonderful thing about his godfather was that he would always listen, or read in this case, and offer comfort and advice no matter how petty the issue. They both knew it was an outlet for Harry to vent his frustrations so when his godfather wrote a reply it was often far longer, like their conversations; a sentence from Harry could spark off a whole ten minutes of talk from Sirius. It was a shred of normality and comfort to the boy who had the entire world to worry about at times, a brief reprieve for the young wizard who craved for normality, safety and happiness.

He lay his quill down and folded up the letter, sliding it into the pocket of his striped pajamas. For a while he simply sat and listened to the light snoring of the other boys and the pitter patter of rain against the tower. He leant his forehead against the icy glass, cooling his throbbing scar on the clear pane. He let out a sigh, mist appearing, and then closed his emerald eyes and drifted off to sleep.

He awoke some time later as a peal of thunder jolted him from his doze. He stretched out his cramped legs and rubbed the spot on his back that had been pressing into the cold stone behind him for hours. It was not yet dawn though Harry knew he would not sleep again tonight. He licked his dry lips and absent-mindedly scratched his nose as he surveyed the school grounds and, in the distance, the forbidden forest.

Through the misty glass he saw three figures moving rapidly across the grass up towards the castle. Hastily wiping the window with his dressing gown sleeve, he squinted through the down pour, only catching faint glimpses of the trio as lightning flashed in the sky. A simple reflex brought his hand crashing towards his bedside table below him as two of the figures wrestled the third to the ground. He leaped up alarmed until he recognized the form of Dumbledore gliding towards them all. In the brief flashes of light he was able to piece together the events, like Muggle photographs taken in quick succession.

First, there was the detaining of the third figure who seemed to writhe and squirm in his company's grip. Second came the charm from the headmaster sending the man to the floor. Lastly,the shadow was hauled through the castle doors, and Harry heard the resonating thud that travelled through the entire castle. Though Harry trusted Dumbledore with his life, something was not quite right about the events he had just witnessed. They seemed rather violent, brutal even, and Harry had seen the outline of the person as Dumbledore's charm cast an eerie glow on the group. The figure seemed too light and slim to be much older than Harry. He decided to trust the great wizard as he slid down from his windowsill, and padded over to his freezing bed. Thrusting his body beneath the sheets Harry struggled in vain to get some sleep as the memory of what had just happened turned over and over in his already overactive brain. In a last desperate attempt he cast a few silencing spells and heating charms to lull his body to sleep. Yet despite this he only drifted off after the charms wore off and the thunder served as the young wizard's lullaby.

* * *

Breakfast in the great hall was noisy, as usual. The hundreds of students chattered away to their friends in between the vast quantities of food they placed into their mouths. Sadly in Ron's case, these two events occurred at the same time. Hermione wrinkled her nose at him from across the table somewhat disgusted at the half chewed-food displayed in her friend's mouth. Choosing to avert her gaze she turned to her other companion who was busy feeding his snowy white owl and scanning the headlines of the newspaper she had brought him.

"Harry, have you finished our potions essay?" Harry glanced up at her intrigued.

"Hermione, when have I ever managed to finish one of Snape's essays without your help? Honestly, I thought you were smarter than that." He grinned as she flushed angrily.

"Actually it's due in tomorrow, and as it's Quidditch tryouts on Saturday, I was about to offer you my help!" Her eyes flashed with annoyance before displaying a certain level of smugness. "But fine, seeing as you don't want it!" She smiled sarcastically, knowing she had won this battle as Harry very nearly choked on his Pumpkin juice.

Ron, ignoring his spluttering friend, waved a piece of toast knowingly in her direction. "Now, Hermione-" He was cut off as silence filled the room, and everyone turned to look at the entrance to the hall. Even Harry stopped choking, as he followed everyone's gaze to the door.

Draco Malfoy was striding through the hall, his back poker-straight and his head held high, as he swept over to the Slytherin table aware of the thousands of eyes watching his swift and graceful movements like hawks. His hair seemed brighter than usual, his skin a little paler, if that was possible, and he smirked as Blaise Zabini hurriedly scooted out of his place to surrender it to its' rightful owner. Running a hand through his perfectly groomed locks he lifted his eyes and several first years shuddered as the icy gaze swept over them.

Everyone hurriedly turned back to their meals and pretended to be immersed in books or papers as Draco returned to his meal. It wasn't long before a frenzied whispering broke out among the crowd, eyes flitting towards the heir as he devoured his breakfast, evidently famished. He seized the glass next to him, a deep, dark colour, and downed it in one go. He then left as suddenly as he had arrived, sweeping briskly from the hall and up the stairs and out of sight. Crabbe and Goyle followed straight after leaving a sour looking Blaise at the Slytherin table next to Pansy Parkinson who starred after Draco hungrily.

"Malfoy's back then," Ron announced moodily glaring at the doors to the hall.

"Yes, thank you Ronald for your ever-valuable input." Seeing what mood Hermione was in and conscious of the lethal looking wand that lay on the table beside her, the redheaded teenager chose to keep quiet. So it was up to Harry to fill the awkward silence.

"What d' you reckon I should do? Dumbledore didn't exactly make it clear when I talked to him about it."

Petty quarrel forgotten the witch turned to him and set down the newspaper with a sigh. "Harry, it doesn't seem likely that Draco needs your help," she gestured around the room, "I mean look at the stir he's caused by simply walking in here! However, if you seek to put your mind at rest I suggest you either talk to him or Dumbledore about it."

The young wizard wrinkled his nose in disgust "Talk to Malfoy? Surely you can't be serious!"

"Dumbledore seems to be." And with that, she rose from the table, gathered her books and strode from the door, calling out that she would see them in class later. Ron turned to Harry.

"Look, mate. I hate Malfoy as much as you do, but if Dumbledore says he needs help, then I guess you should trust him."

"Yeah, but Ron, Dumbledore trusts Snape." Looking vaguely defeated he shrugged. "What am I supposed to say anyway? 'Oh, hi, I know we've hated each other for years, but if you ever need a shoulder to cry on you only need come and find me?'" He shuddered at the thought, and looked at his best friend. It was Ron's turn to shrug.

"Well, it's up to you, mate. But mind you, we've got Quidditch tryouts on Saturday, so save any fights until after you compete." Harry snapped to attention suddenly remembering what Hermione had said about Snape's essay. Ron paled and exchanging a horrified glance, they gathered up their belongings and raced out of the hall to find their friend.

* * *

It was Saturday morning and all the bad weather had thankfully gone during the week leaving the skies clear and the air fresh. The two young wizards strolled down to the pitch, eating a few Bertie Bott's Beans on their way, and laughing uproariously when Ron was unlucky enough to get a Bogey flavoured one.

But their merriment turned to nerves as they reached their destination and Angelina Johnson was standing amongst a large crowd of Gryffindors.

They joined the group tentatively Harry's grip tightening on his broom, the newest in the Firebolt range, given to him by Sirius as a Birthday present a few months before. Ron's was similar but of a slightly sturdier model. Harry traced the golden lettering across the handle of the broom with a leather glove as he made sure his glasses were securely attached with Hermione's very useful charm.

"Right. I think almost everyone's here now, so let's get started. People trying out for keeper, go over there to Isabella. Those trying for a place as a chaser, go to Robert. Those trying out for Beaters head on over to Dean, whilst seekers stay with me."

Ron trudged off towards a cheerful-looking seventh year, casting a vicious look towards some Slytherins who were holding their tryouts towards the opposite end of the pitch. Harry ignored the jeers and insults that floated towards the Gryffindors as he patiently waited for Angelina to set their task. Rolling her eyes at the green-clad students she held out a gloved fist.

"Simple. First one to catch it wins." She declared raising her eyebrows at the dozen or so people before her. Suddenly, without warning, she unfurled her hand and the snitch was gone darting off into the bright sky. Immediately Harry kicked off and zoomed upwards with his rivals, the many pairs of eyes nervously scanning the area around them. Unable to see anything for the time being as a cloud passed lazily over the autumn sun Harry watched Ron fending off enchanted Quaffles to the evident approval of the seventh year.

He soared around for a while hoping to catch a glimpse of the tiny, walnut sized ball when the sun came back out temporarily blinding him. He raised an arm to shield his emerald eyes from the incredibly strong rays when, to his horror, he spotted a girl zooming towards the ground with her arm outstretched. His heart plummeted with her knowing he would never make it in time, yet as she sped towards the earth, he noticed the lack of a snitch anywhere near her. Was she feinting? Some of the others had fallen for it it seemed as they too dived towards the ground, angrily shoving one another out of the way. Was he missing something here?

Apparently not, he realized as five or six people crashed into the floor, failing to come up in time.

"What the hell are you doing?" Angelina screeched flying towards the heap of people with a look of mixed confusion and anger on her face. It was only then that they heard the laughter of the Slytherins from a hundred or so yards away and despite the distance everyone saw the infamous Draco Malfoy slip his wand back into his pocket with his trademark sneer.

The injured Gryffindors had broken some bones that much was clear, Angelina sent a spectator to fetch Madam Pomfrey whilst she threw her broom to the ground and stormed off down the pitch towards the snickering bunch.

"What was that, Malfoy? Another pathetic attempt to sabotage our team?" She accused as Harry landed beside her.

"Hardly," Malfoy replied raising a neat eyebrow. "If you choose to have Potter as your seeker again and a Weasel on your team, I think you'll manage that for me rather nicely." His team-mates burst into waves of fresh hilarity as Dean Thomas arrived on the scene.

"As I'm sure you've been told before, the reason we won the last two times is because we actually have talent rather than money." Dean spat, having heard Malfoy's last comment.

"And I'm sure you've guessed Dean, we have both," chuckled Blaise.

Angelina snorted. "Really now? Then pray tell us, how have we won the last two times?"

"Blind luck, I guess. It probably helps having the Boy Who Lived on your team-there's bound to be a die-hard fan willing to cheat," he explained, smirking at Harry's title. By this time Ron had finished his tryouts and had come over to see what all the commotion was about.

"Whatever. Even Hermione could play better than you guys," Dean said.

"The Mudblood? Honestly , Thomas, I didn't think you were stupid enough to think we haven't improved since last year?" Malfoy snickered opening his hand to show him the golden snitch. Before he had time to gloat further Ron roared and sprang towards the heir, smacking him on the jaw with a well-aimed fist. Malfoy's eyes widened in shock but he quickly recovered and drew himself to his full height, unwilling to let his fellow Slytherins see him in a poor light.

Harry fully expected Draco to waltz off as quickly as possible whilst throwing a few snide remarks their way: the Malfoy version of retreat. But instead, the blond did something no one expected. He took a step towards Ron, who was examining his knuckles. A drop of blood oozed from the split skin, but his hand froze half way up to his mouth.

Draco snarled and everyone flinched. It was a terrible, horrific sound that emerged from the back of the heir's throat, and Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he took a quick step in between the two young men. His eyes saw Draco's shoulders shake as his gaze remained unmoving, hypnotized by Ron's bloody hand.

* * *

My thanks to my beta, Aki Vos - she really helped with this chapter!

I know the last chapter was rubbish, but still! I got blanked! Yet I apologise for it's rubbishyness, and I hope this chapter was better. But anyway, my thanks to Aki Vos and Imarriedmalfoy for your support!

**I would really like to know what you all suggest for this story. I have read far too many that start out well yet always go in completely the wrong direction, making characters unbelieveable, and adding Mary-Sues. I haven't been writing for a long time, so PMs and reviews with ideas and comments are appreciated. As you can probably tell, I had to guess most of the quidditch parts! I am happy to take on board constructive critisism, it really helps. **

**Imarriedmalfoy: thank you, it's always nice to hear good things said about my work. And if dom means dominant, I'm not too sure at the moment - I will see how it goes in my brain :) **


	5. Chapter 5: The Golden Snitch

**Welcome to the longest installment so far ^-^ I would like to thank every one who reviewed - yay! As many authors say, it motivates me! **

**Sadly for me, it's Valentine's day. Hmph. Unwilling to set foot outside, I have been curled up in bed with some chocolates and my laptop, writing this instead of doing my coursework :S I sincerely hope you enjoy it, but before that I would like to thank Aki Vos, my betareader. Also I would like to clear some things up about the Quidditch side of this story in answer to O Desperado Sweetie O The first being that I don't know much about Quidditch, so I apologise for any wrong assumptions made. Yet I know Gryffindor have only won the house cup twice in before this year (Harry's sixth) But anyway, thanks for pointing these things out :)**

**I would like to dedicate this chapter to all my reviewers, but in particular, Ranma064, who made me sit down and seriously think about how this story is going, and what I want to do with it. Her comment has shaped this chapter, which doesn't really have any very important parts, save the one thing all you clever people will probably pick up on.**

**Enjoy! And don't forget to poke that nice little review button with your mouse! Feel the love!**

* * *

Draco's nostrils flared and his irises got smaller. Harry watched wit a mixture of fear and anger as the young man stood there ringing his hands keeping them occupied whilst he ran his tongue along his teeth. Ron's angry flush turned to pale and he hastily shoved his bleeding fist into his mouth as the others watched looking bewildered.

"Draco!" Pansy cooed. "Go on, teach the Weasel a lesson!" Not bothering to even send her the usual contemptuous look. Malfoy gritted his teeth against the groan that tried to escape his mouth.

"Ron," Harry murmured, his eyes trained upon the blond boy, "I think we should go." Ron nodded, fist still shoved into his mouth to stifle the coppery scent of blood. They strode briskly away, both of them occasionally sending the odd wary glance back at the group of Slytherins. Malfoy broke away from the group after a few moments and raced towards the forest evidently eager to escape this housemate's questioning.

Ron let his body shudder and removed his fist from his mouth when he thought they were far away enough that no one would notice. He turned to Harry with a haunted expression.

"Harry," he croaked. "Did you see his eyes?" The young wizard nodded in reply, his own pupils far away as he walked. "They were…" he trailed off, not needing to finish.

"We need to see Dumbledore," Harry sighed letting his slightly erratic breaths slow. His heart was beating wildly, thrashing around inside its' bone prison; the sight of Malfoy's eyes flashing blood red had kick-started every single one of his body's natural defence mechanisms. He could almost feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins and he wondered for how long such terrifying creatures had existed. Once more a wave of pity washed over him, and he told Ron this. At once the redhead looked straight into Harry's emerald eyes and said:

"Harry. This is Malfoy we're talking about, here. Hate him, curse him, help him, be sympathetic but for Merlin's sake, don't pity him. They're a proud family. They fear pity more than anything!" Harry sighed again knowing Ron was right.

"Now," Ron muttered shaking his head to rid his mind of haunting scarlet eyes. "Let's make a start on the Transfiguration essay. At least that's normal."

They climbed through the portrait into the Gryffindor common room and made their way towards Hermione who sat by the fire reading a very thick leather-bound book. She looked up as they approached, smiling warmly and patting the two armchairs on either side of her. After propping their brooms against the wall the boys flopped down in the seats, their muscles relaxing in the heat of the fire. Hermione burrowed into the bag propped by her chair and handed the two of them long rolls of parchment and quills. Wordlessly the trio started writing, the only female scribbling away whilst the two boys chewed the ends of the long feathers with their minds elsewhere.

Eventually Hermione paused for long enough to notice something was wrong. "I forgot to ask, how was Quidditch?" She enquired, hoping the answer would become clear in their replies. Instead they nodded glumly, eyes held by the flickering fire. She waited, looking nervously between the two. " Is something wrong?"

"Malfoy." Ron murmured. "We just saw …"

"Saw what? You saw Malfoy do something?" Panic showed through her voice, so Harry took part in the conversation before Ron made more of a mess of then necessary.

"Nothing serious, 'Mione. We just saw Malfoy's reaction to blood. We had to make a bit of a break for it."

"Oh. So you didn't see him change, then?" Hermione asked.

"No."

"Change?" Harry enquired; more interested in the fire than the conversation, but when he heard what she had to say next his eyes flashed with interest.

"Well it says here," she said, shifting forward in her seat and pointing to a passage in the book. "That once bitten, a human will begin to change within the first few months." She raised a chocolate eyebrow. "So, no signs of that then. At least that's something."

Ron grimaced. "You mean it gets worse? Not only was the prick walking around like he had something bigger shoved up his backside than usual, but now he has some sort of creepy power? Ugh, this is going to be such a great year, I can feel it." He banged his head on the back of the armchair in irritation, gritting his teeth.

"Actually, Ronald, these processes are extremely painful and damaging both mentally and physically. Over the next year or so Malfoy's body will change drastically from a human which survives by eating, drinking and by respiration, to a creature who survives solely from drinking blood."

Ron blanched. "Still, this is Malfoy. I'm sure he'll find a way out of it, the spoiled little brat. He'll get his daddy to buy him a wonder potion that cures him, and his mummy will pay for everything he needs to get over the emotional trauma."

Harry said not a word somehow knowing that Malfoy's secret of disownment was not something to be shared with Ron at this moment though Hermione cast him a nervous, awkward look. She knew the truth.

"Right. So how I see it, as long as Malfoy doesn't so anything else we don't have to do something about him. We don't even need to speak to him! Am I right?" Without waiting for an answer, he slammed open his book and began scribbling onto parchment vigorously.

Harry rose from his chair to sit by the window, watching the azure sky with sparkling eyes. His gaze moved down to the Quidditch pitch, where he could still see a few dark silhouettes zooming through the sky and his stomach turned over as he remembered that he hadn't exactly finished his tryout - that Malfoy was the one who actually had caught the snitch. He pictured the blonde smirking; twirling the tiny golden ball with long, perfectly pale fingers.

He began to pace the room, lost in thought. Surely Malfoy couldn't play for them? It was impossible, he was a Slytherin and the rules clearly stated that team members had to belong to their own house. Somehow this didn't help in the slightest, and to halt his frantically whirling mind, he set off out of the common room and weaved his way through the multitude of students towards the library.

Madam Pince glared at him as he rushed through the old oak doors, and he blushed guiltily. The last time he had been in here he recalled causing a lot of damage to several bookshelves and so he hurried along to escape her icy glare. It took him a while to find what he was looking for, but eventually he came across the section:

"_**Hogwarts: Rules and Regulations"**_

He traced a finger along the many hundreds of book spines that were all around him. Each had their own sensations of colour, heat, aura, texture and all were equally fascinating. Pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose he tilted his head sideways to be able to read the tomes title's better.

His joints began to ache as he moved onto his fifty-sixth row, and his back became painful as it contorted into increasingly difficult and strenuous positions as he tried to read all of the titles. Some were relatively close to what he was looking for, and some were completely off topic, probably filed in the wrong section. For example he was surprised to find a full book about the history of Chocolate Frogs and a book about the

"Life and Lies of Shaliore the Slayer."

He sneezed suddenly, the dust in the air becoming intolerable. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if the last person to come here was Hermione, and she hadn't visited the library at all this year. His eyes widened as he realised that for once, he was doing some research before Hermione. Granted, she had obviously looked into vampire folklore, but he severely doubted she had ever elected to read a book on Quidditch.

He grinned with satisfaction when his glimmering eyes found the volume he was looking for and gently pulled it from the bookcase. Carrying the old book to a nearby table, he lit a candle with his wand and began to read in the dark corner of the library.

Flicking through the contents he soon came to the one which he was searching for. Flicking through the yellowing pages, he found a passage which made his heart stop.

"_Any student who fulfils the task set by the team captain or official assistant of the afore mentioned player automatically is entered into the possible candidates. If a task is set by the captain or assistant that can have only one victor, the student who is so becomes a player regardless of their bloodline, house, heritage or age. The player will stay in the appointed position until he or she resigns, leaves the school, or is banished from the team by the captain for a good reason."_

All the colour drained from his face as he scanned over the lines. So Malfoy was eligible to play. This was disastrous, as surely the cunning blond would surely use this to his total advantage. Even Harry could think of several terrifying possibilities and he didn't have the scheming mind of a Malfoy - the heir could probably think up dozens more.

He desperately tried to calm his nerves, clinging onto the shreds of hope that said Malfoy was unaware of this rule, that Angelina was oblivious, that the whole school thought as he had. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the ancient corners of the book and he gnashed his teeth together feeling tricked and helpless. Swiftly rising, he shovelled the book into his bag, extinguished the flame with a quick flick of his holly wand and left, careful to shield the book from Madam Pince as he nearly ran through the doors.

He was surprised to find that evening had set in, he hadn't noticed that in his dark little corner. He caught glimpses of the orange sky and the dark silhouette of the forbidden forest as he strode toward Gryffindor tower catching brief glimpses of the picturesque scene outside and at the same time nervously stroking the ill-gained book in his bag. He would return it as soon as the Quidditch season began, he reasoned. By then, either Malfoy will or won't be on the team, and he could return the hardback to its' rightful place, but for now, he had to keep it hidden so as not to draw attention to it. A deep feeling of guilt gnawed away at his stomach, and he froze suddenly, deliberating. He couldn't check the book out, or else people would wonder why. He couldn't hide it or the guilt would eat away at him.

"That's a rather un-Gryffindor thing to be doing, Harry."

The brunette spun around, both startled and mortified. Dumbledore was standing a few meters away from him, a slight smile on his features whilst his eyes looked as dreamy and thoughtful as ever. The old man reached inside his deep orange robes and drew out a paper bag, placing one in his mouth then absent-mindedly tilting the bag in Harry's direction. Shaking his head, Harry chose to keep quiet, guilt gleefully giving way to the numbing edges of shame. He chewed his lip, suddenly wishing he had listened to his overactive conscience.

He waited for a few minutes, the light ebbing away as he waited for the headmaster to speak.

"Don't you think we ought not to deny Mr. Malfoy this small triumph?" He pondered, eyes twinkling at Harry over his usual half-moon glasses.

"But sir, it's not fair! I mean, he bewitched those others into nose diving - he shouldn't win from trickery."

"Harry, I admit to having no idea about what happened this morning apart from the fact that Draco Malfoy will become the seeker for Gryffindor this year. I also believe he won the position fair and square. There are no other rules but those conveyed on page 56, passage 4, are there? Or am I sadly mistaken?"

Harry was rather taken aback at the unexpected knowledge of Quidditch Dumbledore displayed. Then again, he was headmaster, and had been for decades. Sighing, Harry shook his disheveled locks and grudgingly held out the book for Dumbledore to receive. A wave of the old wand, and the book was gone and back in its' rightful place in the library the young wizard guessed.

"If it's any consolation Harry, young Mr. Malfoy may believe this to be a great advantage, but we can always swing it around. I think that this will be considered adequate leverage." Another smile and a brief wave and Albus Dumbledore ambled off into the shadows, humming a Muggle tune which got softer and softer until all was silent and the Boy Who Lived was left standing alone in the dark.

* * *

The next week passed by blissfully uneventful. Harry was glad to be back at Hogwarts after such a dark holiday, back to the noise and the schedules and the mountains of homework. Back to the buildings, back to the feasts and most of all: back to his friends. He spent many happy hours with Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna down near Hagrid's hut, helping the jolly half-giant care for the many magical creatures that resided there. In return, they would all get a watery cup of tea and a few rock hard biscuits as Hagrid's thanks. All uneaten biscuits were taken by Luna at the end of the visit, preferably without Hagrid noticing. Although none of them actually ate his cooking they all sat around and pretended to enjoy them; Harry though it best not to let Hagrid know that his biscuits were bait for Luna's infamous Nargles.

They all sat by the fire, Harry watching, amused as Luna sewed a thick piece of string through a biscuit and hung it above the fireplace, the fifty eighth done that day. The entire school contained the deep brown desserts in every place Luna suspected that Nargles would be. Insisting the biscuits smelled like mistletoe, she proceeded to hang them up to everyone's stifled amusement.

"Luna," Ron said gently, "even if Nar-ghouls come, which they won't...how on earth are you going to catch them?"

"It's Nargles. And I don't intend to catch them; I just think it's nice to give them some food. Even if they do steal my things, it's in the Christmas spirit to be generous."

Ron looked a lot more confused after that little explanation. "Luna….it's October," he looked around, suddenly panic stricken that the madness had spread. He looked pleadingly at Hermione, then begged; "It is October, isn't it?" Hermione nodded slowly, calming Ron whilst looking questioningly at Luna who fiddled with her horse-radish earrings.

"Exactly. Not much time left!" She said softly and gracefully rising up off of the carpet before toddling, bare-footed, to the portrait hole with snatches of a song creeping forward from her lips. A brief wave and she was gone, leaving behind the confused silence and Neville with a rather dreamy look in his eyes.

"Wait a minute!" Ron barked, his head snapping up. "How did she get in here? She's a Ravenclaw!"

Everyone burst out laughing at the expression on Ron's features, and he blushed at the attention before staring moodily into the fire and sulking, not taking kindly to being the subject of hilarity.

It was a long time before Harry stood up from the warm crowd by the fire, and said to his friends, most of which were half asleep: "I'm off to bed. I've only got bloody Quidditch practice with Malfoy tomorrow."

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning feeling terrible. Thanks to a particularly nasty dream about Voldemort, his scar ached and he felt disgustingly queasy. As he remembered what was to take place today, he stopped believing the dream was the cause of his upset stomach.

Since the first practise of the year wasn't until later on that day, he was able to force down a somewhat leisurely breakfast at the Gryffindor table when he trudged down to the Great Hall. The room was nowhere near as full as it was on the weekdays, and the few students that were present in the room seemed far too busy talking amongst themselves to bother much with the platters of mouth-watering food that sat before them. The young wizard grudgingly placed forkful after forkful into his mouth, not really tasting anything, but swallowing it down for the energy despite his nausea.

As he set down his cutlery and began slowly munching on a Danish pastry, he spotted Angelina striding towards him. With a deep sigh, she sat down next to him, pouring them both a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Thanks for doing this, Harry," she muttered and he nodded in reply. She had asked him to help her oversee the first practise - evidently she was as cautious about Malfoy being on the team as he was.

"Y'know, usually I wouldn't have hesitated to put you back on the team, but Professor McGonagall said that we should conduct tryouts. I guess it's since we would've had to do a complete reshuffle now Fred and George are gone. Even I had to be reconsidered as captain."

Again he nodded, uncertain what to say to the girl. In the end he decided just to remain silent and finish his breakfast before he began the day. He still couldn't quell the horrible feeling in his stomach as he walked solemnly down to the pitches with the captain.

Malfoy was already there, leaning against his broom and flanked by Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and his old henchmen: Crabbe and Goyle. His icy composure was back along with his sneer, it seemed as if he had totally forgotten about the blood-related incident that had occurred here just days before. If anything Harry would have complained that the blond was looking more smug than usual.

Harry slumped down on the sidelines and surveyed with dull eyes as the selected players marched onto the pitch wearing their deep scarlet robes. Jealousy burned within him as he watched them kick off into the cool autumn air, seeing their troubles melt away the further they got into the sky. He ground his teeth in irritation when the snitch was released and flew straight past him, wings fluttering just beyond his reach mockingly.

He jumped as Malfoy shot past him in pursuit, and Harry's eyes widened as the blond sped through the air with startling grace and accuracy. This didn't seem much like the Malfoy that had been playing Quidditch before, the Malfoy who had bought his way into the Slytherin team years ago. This was something unnervingly different.

He watched as Malfoy ducked and weaved through the posts and other players the snitch went through, twisting and turning to match the path of the walnut-sized ball. He was drawing ever closer to it, and Harry felt a surge of disappointment as the snitch was seized by beautiful, slender fingers. Something inside him had been insisting that Malfoy had no talent in Quidditch whatsoever, that he had come across the snitch purely by chance whilst the Gryffindors hunted for it. The little voice grew quiet as the snitch was captured effortlessly.

Everyone, including the gaggle of Slytherins shared the same dumbfounded expression as Draco Malfoy gracefully slid off of his broom and placed the snitch back into the box before folding his arms and smirking at Angelina's horrified face, the look worsening as her brain slowly realised all hopes of kicking him off of the team had slipped through her fingers when the ball was grasped by Malfoy's.

"That's how you do it, Potter," he drawled, before Pansy wound an arm round his waist and rested her head against him adoringly.

Harry's stomach boiled with rage at the words, and he clenched his fists together so hard his fingernails almost drew blood. Almost. He turned his head away in contempt, just missing Malfoy flinching and prizing the woman off of him in disgust.

Angelina shook herself from her daze and looked extremely irritated as she looked towards Harry. She chewed on one of her braids, thoughtfully, before:

"Alright Malfoy. You're on the team, but at the first sign of sabotage, Harry takes your place. Deal?"

"Deal," Malfoy snickered, his silver eyes glittering mischievously. He cast a triumphant sneer at the boy sitting on the floor before heading back up to the castle, his emerald green robes billowing out behind him. His followers jogged after him, eager to catch up.

Harry's eyes followed them all until Angelina stepped in front of him, blocking his view.

"I suspect foul play," she declared. However, the young man could see hints of defeat in her eyes as she slumped down next to him.

"You couldn't have said anything else." He said, hoping he sounded comforting. "Malfoy will always find a loophole, but that doesn't mean we can't kick his arse off of the team if something goes wrong." There was no real conviction behind those words - they were mainly intended for comfort, but the captain appreciated them nonetheless.

"Yeah," she murmured, casting her dark eyes far up towards the party who were just entering the great doors, four tiny silhouettes of black and one of green. "It must be worse for you though, Harry. Merlin knows how much you hate each other." She turned to face him, beads of sweat glimmering on her forehead as she offered a smile. "Still, at least you know you're better than him!" With a grunt, she got to her feet and began shouting orders at the people in the sky, settling back into her usual commanding role, leaving the young wizard staring at the grass, deep in thought.

If she meant in terms of Quidditch, Harry had a sinking feeling she was going to be sadly mistaken.

* * *

**Yana5: Yay! You're back! I love your reviews, they always make me think what it's like for someone who is reading my story- very useful! Thank youuu ^-^**

**sUp3rhiro: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! **

**Dark's Mistress: First off, I absolutely adore your name! I wish I could've thought of something better than ninthrys ^-^ Secondly, thank you so much for your support! I've been doubting my story for the past few days, but you made me finish this chapter, so a big thanks to you. Especially with the "mates" thing. I had already thought about the mates thinng after seeing it in some excellent fanfics, but now you've given me a really nice idea that I'm sure Draco will hate. Muahhahhaha! Please review again, I enjoyed yours so much!**

**Ranma064: I'm sorry about the change in style from the first chapter, and I really hope this one has been better than the previous two. I have tried to put other, more everyday aspects of their lives into this one, but I'm not sure I did it effectively. Ah well, thank you for the useful information anyway-that was probably the best constructive critisism I have got so far, so thank you **

**Renae: Aww, thanks! I hope this was up quick enough :)**

**O desperado sweetie O : Again, I'm sorry about the whole quidditch thing, but I didn't really think it completely vital to the plotline. But if I have any questions on it, is it ok to ask you?**


	6. Chapter 6: Quidditch

_Before you guys read this, you should know that I have been traveling back from my sunny holiday for 48 hours, and have just flopped on my bed with a soggy bowl of cornflakes and a grey sky here in England. I'm pretty exhausted, however I felt a bit bad for not updating and you lovely people have cheered me up with your reviews! Yay! So I'll have a little snooze once this is typed up-please excuse it if it's a bit rubbish in places. But my errors have been sorted, once again thanks to my beta, Aki Vos!_

Harry watched the figures swooping around the Quidditch pitch with envious emerald eyes. Despite the autumn chill he knew that he needed to be flying around in the deep grey skies if he could have any hope of happily seeing the long term through until Christmas. He was deprived of the joy of using his Firebolt; usually this time of year was filled with practices for him - the Gryffindor seeker. His mouth contorted angrily as he spotted the only team member in green robes, a tiny little body zooming around on a tiny little top of the range broom. Anger grasped at Harry, snatching at his heart as he watched Malfoy playing for _his_ team in _his_ place, and a tiny voice asked: how could this be at all fair? Flying set him free from the troubles that kept him grounded. On earth people expected him to save the world because of a tiny little scar on his forehead, whereas in the air, the most people hoped that he would win them the game, which was a lot easier to cope with. He knew he wouldn't have minded so much if he could still fly without taking part, but the laws of the school were clear. Teams practicing for games got priority and could take up the pitch for as long as they liked, and so the only time the pitch was free was when Harry was in lessons. He had made several trips back to the library to research rules about flying a broomstick in the Hogwarts' grounds, yet they only proved that Hermione was right. The only place was the pitch.

He also wouldn't have minded so much if it was anyone but Malfoy. Merlin, he wouldn't have cared if Neville was thought a better seeker than him, he would have at least tried to have been pleased for his friend. Something about the blond boy made his blood boil; it always had from day one. Madam Malkins was where the whole horrible business had begun and the first few minutes at Hogwarts was where it had all gone wrong. Harry knew that he had been right to reject the young heir's proposal of friendship, after all, he would never have made friends with Ron and Hermione if he had taken that flawlessly pale hand. And that-

"Harry, mate. Don't let him get to you."

Harry's head whipped round to see Ron leaning against the doorframe grimacing slightly. He had been unaware of the other boy's presence, and was startled to realize he had probably been there for quite a while.

"Ron? What are you doing here?" The other boy shrugged and came to sit next to his friend on the windowsill.

"Angelina didn't need me at practice. She's focusing on the others mainly. Malfoy refuses to accept her help, of course. Stuck up git." The disgusted look on Ron's face teamed with his last statement tore a snort of amusement from Harry, and Ron's eyes brightened at this. Eager to cheer the ex-seeker up, he proceeded to recount all of the things Malfoy had done wrong in great detail, adding his own derogatory comments in where he thought necessary. A grateful smile had crept onto Harry's face by the end and he turned out to watch the players marching through the mud back up to the castle with his red headed companion. Angelina looked rather pleased as she strode in through the gates, along with a small blonde girl who was beaming up at her adoringly.

Pansy Parkinson hurried up to Malfoy who sneered and pushed her out of his way. She fell, rear-end first into the deep mud and pouted angrily as he swept into the castle. She squealed in irritation as she realized he wouldn't come to help her up and struggled to her feet indignantly. Ron roared with laughter as she promptly slipped back over and sloshed around in the mud, very nearly throwing a tantrum. A few Gryffindors stumbled past her, guffawing, and so she collected herself. Standing up with the a little more grace than before she waved her wand to clean her clothes and then carefully stepped out of the boggy area whilst failing to stop a blush creeping onto her face. Snapping at a few giggling first years, she waltzed into the castle with all the dignity she could muster.

By this time Harry had joined Ron on the floor as they doubled up laughing.

* * *

Potions that Friday was one of the worst Harry could ever remember. Not only did Draco Malfoy waltz in twenty minutes late with a note excusing him from Harry's most hated lesson, but the handwriting on the note was definitely Angelina's. He watched as the blond sat down next to Blaise and proceeded to collect all the necessary ingredients and start preparing them and adding them to the cauldron effortlessly. Harry narrowed his eyes as he watched Malfoy's potion turn a perfect lavender shade in a matter of moments, and the Slytherin sit back in his chair and place his hands behind his head. Harry glared at his own potion which was currently a sickly green colour, the disappointing product of half an hour's hard work. Anger stirred in the pit of his stomach as Malfoy yawned contentedly and Snape looked approvingly into the blonde wizards' purple mixture.

Snarling, Harry slammed open his text book and found the ingredients page he must've been over a million times in the last half hour, before nudging Ron awake as he furiously sliced ingredients and shoved them into his foul-smelling concoction. His glasses flashed as he traced over the words, reading and rereading them so as not to get it wrong. Ron half-heartedly poked at the fire underneath the cauldron with his wand and his half-lidded eyes watched Harry become more and more irritated as the potion got steadily worse.

"Harry, what's wrong?" He mumbled sleepily, half of some unknown root getting tangled in his red hair as his face returned to the desk where he had been dozing peacefully only moments before. "We always fail in this lesson anyway, so…" trailing off, he sat up and stared into the alarmingly bubbling mixture that separated the two boys. "…Is it supposed to be doing that?" Grinding his teeth in frustration, Harry shook his head and scanned the lines of the book, endeavouring to decipher some words that had been smudged by droplets of scarlet potion. A low growl of frustration rose in his throat as he heard the words:

"Excellent. Ten points to Slytherin Mr. Malfoy."

He hurried to correct his potion as Snape approached knowing with a sinking feeling what was coming next. His anger boiled like the potion.

"Mr. Potter, how expected." The Slytherins sniggered and Harry's eyes slid shut in a vain attempt to keep a hold of his temper. He bit his lip, clenched his fists, chanted soothing rhythms to himself in a Herculean effort to keep calm as the Potions Professor inspected his potion with a sneer. His hooked nose almost reached the bubbling potion and at that moment in time Harry wanted nothing more than to shove Snape's greasy head down into that cauldron and wait gleefully to see what nasty things would happen. Finding some comfort in this, he drifted off into a dream world full of hundreds of Snapes all with separate yet equally horrible deformities and problems. The slow drawl of the man's voice was far away now and Harry was blissfully unaware of Malfoy's sneers and cutting remarks. Sadly he was jolted from this wonderful world as the Potions Master's hand made brief but painful contact with the back of Harry's head. Cheers and jeers sounded from the Slytherins as eyes shot open to glare at Snape, the unmistakable fire of rage roaring in their emerald depths.

The man smirked and vanished the still boiling potion away as he ignored Harry's chilling gaze and sauntered off. He collected potions vials before saying to no one in particular:

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. Class dismissed."

Ron sensed that Harry needed some time to himself and murmured something to him before joining Hermione and flowing out of the dark classroom with the majority of the students. It took perhaps ten seconds for the Gryffindors to storm out horribly aware of the injustice that had befallen their house.

Only Malfoy and Harry were left in the room as Snape swept out after the class, yelling at Dean and Seamus as they sprinted off. All footsteps faded away whilst Harry shoved all of his remaining ingredients into his bag and rose from his desk abruptly. He had just escaped the classroom when Malfoy's bored voice sounded from the doorway.

"Shame about your pathetic attempt, Potter. Perhaps you should've listened to you little Mudblood friend." Harry stopped and looked down at his feet, knowing he couldn't take much more of this.

"Don't test me, Malfoy." He muttered through gritted teeth. The blond snorted.

"Test you? And why, pray, would I want to do that? I already know your intellect isn't very high. Though I somehow doubt that was what you meant."

"You know what I meant!" Harry snarled, whipping round to face the slim figure.

"Temper, temper," Malfoy sniggered. "Honestly, half-bloods are so -"

"Well you're not so pure anymore either, are you?" It was a sentence Harry regretted saying the moment it had passed his lips. He watched the little blood there was drain from the blonde's handsome features and horror flash into his silver eyes. He took a step forward, quivering as if all of Harry's rage had passed into him.

"What do you mean by that?" He spat.

Harry shrugged, trying desperately not to look bothered; irrationally hoping it would not seem like a big issue. "I know you're a vampire."

Instantly the eyes flashed scarlet and Malfoy sprang forwards, launching himself at Harry and smacking him surprisingly hard in the jaw. Shocked, Harry didn't block the vicious punch and staggered, barely managing to stand. Malfoy had never been that strong. Yet the blonde looked startled too as he inspected his own fist closely before smirking at the brunette, an entirely new look entering his eyes as he clicked his neck and ran a tongue along perfect teeth.

A low growl sounded from the back of his throat before startled look entered his eyes and he drew himself up from a crouch he didn't seem to have knowingly settled into. Harry took a step backwards as Malfoy looked pained for a moment, and then hissed:

"Tell anyone, Potter and I will…" The blonde stiffened, his spine jerking upright and his eyes growing wide. All traces of red vanished from his striking eyes and he suddenly realized that his image had been shattered. With a confused and horrified look he settled into his usual stance and sneered at Harry, hoping that his dignity could be partially salvaged. He sniffed, and strode away without a word lest his mouth betray him. Harry saw him break into a sprint at the far end of the corridor. Against all sense, the brunette followed suit to see Malfoy bolt out of the doors of the castle with inhuman speed. He almost seemed to glide across the grounds and disappear into the forbidden forest. Harry was left alone in the deserted entrance hall, his bag lying abandoned somewhere behind him. Everything had moved so fast and his brain needed a while to catch up. Numbly, he staggered towards his bag and climbed the stairs to Defence against the Dark Arts.

He excused himself after a fill-in teacher reprimanded him sternly, and he sunk into the seat next to Ron. The redhead looked curiously at his stunned friend, shooting a worried glance at Hermione who sat behind them.

After a few minutes of blank silence he opened his book and, ignoring the dull tones of the only adult in the room, proceeded to read all of the pages devoted to vampires. Hermione instantly knew more or less what had happened as soon as her chocolate eyes caught a glimpse of the illustration Harry was looking at. She paled as it came into full view.

* * *

That evening Harry sat in the Great Hall with Ron on his left and Hermione facing him, looking more than worried. Her eyes were frantic as she trawled through the pile of books next to her, flicking hastily through the yellow pages and briefly scanning the lines of text in search for something, anything that could help. Ron simply sat, absent-mindedly gnawing on a chicken leg and surveying the hall with far away eyes. He was feeling rather optimistic. The first Quidditch game of the season was taking place the next day, no Potions until next week; life was good for the time being. He chewed and swallowed, before turning to Harry to discuss the beautiful game, but Harry got there first.

"Malfoy still hasn't come back yet," he said mildly, eager to hear his friends' thoughts on the situation.

"Yeah," replied Ron, who sounded uninterested and unwilling to hold a conversation centred around his enemy. He didn't take the hint and reached for another piece of chicken.

"Maybe he died," he said cheerily. Hermione's head snapped up from the book she was poring over.

"Ron!" She exclaimed with horror.

"What? I was only joking. Sort of…" he frowned sourly, before adding: "Bet he's gonna ruin the game tomorrow."

"I know we've never been on the best of terms with Malfoy, but I hardly think that and the fact he beat Harry at Quidditch is an adequate reason for wishing death upon him, Ronald!" She hissed, looking horrified. "Right Harry?" She flushed suddenly, realizing what she had said. Thankfully though, Harry did not appear to have heard, wholly distracted by the empty place where Malfoy's slender form ought to be.

"'Mione," Ron said, suddenly very alert and involved in the conversation. "The only reason Malfoy caught that snitch before Harry is simply because he's a dirty rotten cheat." Satisfied with that statement, he leaned back slightly and once again immersed himself in his meal.

"Actually, Ron, he didn't cheat." Hermione snapped, rather annoyed that Ron had seemed to be actually telling her off. "Ever since he was bitten, he has been undergoing both physical and mental changes."

Ron grimaced. "Do I want to know?"

Harry shifted his gaze to look at Hermione, a polite request for her to continue.

"These changes will affect a lot of things, particularly his strength and eyesight." She exaggerated the last few words, looking meaningfully at her two friends.

"So? The bastard socked Harry one in the dungeons. That's all we need to know."

Hermione sighed, exasperated. "Don't you see? That's how he's beaten Harry at Quidditch!" She opened her book at the mark, and twisted it round to show them an image of a vampire's abilities compared to an ordinary human's. At last the two seemed to grasp the concept and Ron slammed his fist into the table on anger. Somehow thinking Malfoy was a cheat was better than having proof he was better than Harry. Hermione, sensing this was the issue, sought to comfort.

"Harry, the only reason he's better at it than you is because he's been bitten. End of story. It's an unfair advantage!"

"But an advantage, all the same." Harry pointed out, sullenly. A deep sigh escaped his lips as his mind whirred, irritated. Though he was envious of Malfoy for his new skills, something about the haunting scarlet eyes told Harry that if anything, Malfoy should be envious of him.

* * *

It was much later, in the Gryffindor common room when Harry was summoned. Hermione was in the middle of explaining the potions homework to her two friends when a seventh year approached them, immediately turning to the one nearest to her.

"Harry, Dumbledore wants you in his office. It's pretty urgent." With a small smile, she left them to go and talk to her friends as the trio exchanged nervous glances. This time, Ron was interested.

"You'll tell us what it's about, won't you Harry?" Ron got a nod in reply.

"I think it's pretty obvious what this is about. Think - Malfoy partially loses control before storming off into the forest. Then he doesn't appear for any lessons or the feast." Ron slumped in his chair, disappointed. "Ron, I don't think you get how dangerous and serious this business with Malfoy is." Hermione said gently. He snorted.

"Big deal. He's a bit stronger and he gets fangs. He's still the same posh git as ever." Hermione began wringing her hands as she proceeded to explain how Malfoy would change, and what into. Suddenly, Ron sat bolt upright.

"What? They can't send Harry in there with that!" He looked around to see Harry slip out of the portrait hole, he jerked up, though Hermione held him back, watching with worried eyes as the emerald-eyed wizard disappeared when the portrait closed.

Harry jogged along the corridors, anger returning to his stomach at the prospect of helping Malfoy. Yet there were other conflicting emotions running riot through him. Hatred and envy, pity and respect. And a few that just made no sense at all.

All too soon he found himself knocking at the headmaster's office, and he entered wordlessly.

"Ahh, Harry. Thank you for arriving so soon." Dumbledore stood up and crossed the room, edging past Harry and down into the corridor. Harry closed the door behind him and hastened towards the elderly wizard, who was already a few meters away.

"I trust you know what this is about."

"Uh…uhm…" Harry stuttered, unsure of how to answer.

"Young Draco has started this month's, and his first, transformation process a little early. This early stage will not be too dangerous so I think you will be safe as long as you know a few spells. I trust Miss Granger has taught you a few?"

Dumbledore already knew he had told his friends, just as he already knew Hermione had taught him many defence spells specifically used against Vampires. So, Harry pondered, what had been the point of asking the question in the first place?

He really should have been concentrating on something else other than Dumbledore's psyche, he realized as they came to the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at Harry as he placed his hand on the doorknob, a silent "are you ready?" A nod from Harry and the two swept inside.

Draco Malfoy had stood by the window looking out into the dark night. He whipped round as the two humans walked through the door, and immediately the sound of heartbeats filled his ears and became like a drum.

Harry watched with horror as Draco's eyes snapped open revealing one silver and one scarlet iris. A pained expression took over his face and suddenly Harry felt extremely unprepared.

* * *

**Yeesh that took longer than expected. Hope you guys enjoyed it though. Some serious events coming up soon! And to everyone who reviewed, I bet you felt the looovveee.**

**Renae: ahh thanks, I love your reviews ^-^ It said in the first chapter or two that Harry had been told by Dumbledore and he knew he would tell Ron and Hermione. At least I think I put that in there-uh oh!**

**HeartsGlow: Muhahaha! I used some elements of your comment in this chapter - it hadn't occured to me that he might feel that way. Thank you very much for pointing that out. Don't sue me! Please review again, though, it made me see aspects of my story in a different light...hmm...**

**: Ta da! I hope this chapter was more of what you're looking for! I'm getting contrasting messages though, it seems. Some people tell me to include everdyday bits and some prefer to get on with the plot, so I just go with the flow, heh. Next chapter is a serious jump forwards in the plot just for you :)**

**Sinful Sakura: Lol, your comment made me think of a chibi Harry left out in the rain- I'm not too sure why. Ah well, I hope you enjoyed this chap!**

**DragonAmante: Wow, thanks! I've been waiting for someone to give me some feedback on my portrayal of Draco and you're the first-YAY! This chapter has the most Harry/Draco interaction so far, I hope I didn't screw it up :P**

**love-of-my-existence: Thanks! I really like your name by the way, was there any inspiration behind it?**

**disgruntledfairy: I loved your review! So cute and quirky ^-^ hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**xelitespellingx: I was going to leave my update until tomorrow, but then I saw your review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7: Room of Requirement

"Potter!" The boy hissed, horror and anger evident in his silver eye, at least. "What's going on?"

"Remember the spells, Harry. For now I must attend to some arising problems at the ministry." Dumbledore murmured before placing an aged hand on Harry's stiff shoulder. "And do not worry. If things get out of hand help is always near." With that the headmaster nodded towards the blond and swept from the room. The door banged shut ominously behind him.

"I ask again," Malfoy said shuddering in an effort to keep calm; Harry's heartbeat flooding through his brain was fading slightly as he got over the original shock, but it still was more than enough to enrage him. "Why are you here?"

Harry stood stock still, gazing in horror as Malfoy shivered and twitched. What in Merlin's name had Dumbledore been thinking? This was horribly dangerous and he had feared that his headmaster had seriously underestimated the situation. He watched, rooted to the spot as the eyes before him slid shut and the boy drew ragged breaths.

"Potter, leave," he muttered, calming a little when the tribal beat faded. "This is none of your business."

Harry too became calm as the hypnotic eyes shift into their usual manner; both silver, both calm and cold. "If Dumbledore says it's my business, then it's my business."

"And what business has the doddery old fool got in my affairs?" The blonde snarled, feeling his temper sharply rise, overriding the calm he was struggling to maintain.

Harry shrugged, feeling so much better now that they had settled back into their usual quarrel. "Why did your dad bring you to Hogwarts when you got bitten?"

It was a rhetorical question they both knew but still it set Draco's mind racing. "It's still none of your business. What will happen here tonight has nothing to do with the likes of you, trust a Gryffindor to stick their nose in where it's not wanted!" He spat, stung by Harry's unanswered question. His father had disowned him and he hoped to Merlin that the other boy knew nothing of this particular aspect of his life.

"Don't think I want to do this Malfoy! I hate being stuck here as much as you do!" Harry snapped whirling round and seeking out the door in the half-darkness. He had had enough of this already, the boy behind him just made him so angry it was impossible spending time alone with him! He ran his hands along the wood, hurriedly searching for the handle. He relaxed as his fingers gripped the cold metal and he turned it.

"Deal with it yourself, I don't give a -" He paused as the metal refused to do his bidding. He frowned as he yanked at the doorknob, panic reaching deeper into him with each futile tug.

"Get out of the way!" Malfoy barked, bodily shoving the brunette out of the way as his perfectly manicure digits curled around the metal. Harry watched as the horror of the situation was sinking in as Malfoy tried in vain to wrench the enchanted door open with inhuman strength. The boy stopped suddenly and rested his forehead against the wood, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.

Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands. Draco flinched.

"Don't do that Potter," he said through gritted teeth.

"Do what?" Harry replied sharply, feeling the thin line that was his temper was getting dangerously close to breaking point.

"Don't…don't groan like that."

"Oh, what?" Harry said sarcastically, not catching the warning tone in Malfoy's voice. "So you now think that just because you think you're better than everyone else in this bloody place you have the right to order people around!" He growled, clenching his fists as the angry flush rushed to his face. When Malfoy didn't reply for a long time, he sighed and closed his glittering emerald eyes in an effort to calm himself. He rubbed his neck which had clicked when the other boy had shoved him out of the way, massaging the aching skin with his fingertips.

"Don't do that either…"

The tiny little cord that was Harry's temper snapped as he received his second order and his eyes flew open to glare at Malfoy furiously, his breathing and heartbeat quickening as a result of his pent-up rage. But he froze as he saw the blond press himself into the old wood of the door and let out an unearthly moan that set Harry's blood on fire. The brunette stiffened as every survival instinct kicked in and urged him to run as Draco's eyes slid open to reveal silver irises which flickered red as he stared into the door. Harry realized the commands the other boy had given him were for his own sake as adrenalin rushed through his veins, age-old survival mechanisms roaring into life. Yet he couldn't bring himself to move or tear his eyes away as Malfoy slid to the floor, his knees buckling underneath him and his slim figure beginning to shudder violently.

The pale body of his nemesis twitched horribly and the moan escaped the perfect lips once more, making Harry slide down the wall helplessly. The dreadful eyes fluttered shut as a wave of pain overtook Malfoy and the awful heartbeat came back, pounding against the walls of his head and wreaking havoc with his senses. A million gory images flashed before his pain-filled eyes, images of blood and screams and lust. Forgetting where he was, the teenager let forth a dreadful scream of agony as his core was swallowed by the familiar darkness and the pain engulfed his entire being, stabbing, ripping, tearing at his heart and mind mercilessly. There was no light but that of the moon as the young man writhed on the cold stone floor, bathed in the eerie silver rays that penetrated his soul like daggers. Blood rushed to his mouth and flowed onto the floor, escaping the blackness that invaded his feebly protesting veins. His brain screamed with outrage as the darkness clawed at it, seeking control. He let scream after scream bubble from his lips and mix with the scarlet liquid that dripped from his mouth as his teeth stretched and sharpened, piercing his tongue in places and splitting his gums.

Harry watched the scene before him with a deep sense of horror. He couldn't move his haunted emerald eyes, nor could he will his body to act as his frantic brain whirred, needing to help his enemy. His heart was torn between sympathy and fear as the terrifying transformation took place but he could not move despite his mind screaming at him to help do something, do anything!

Only when the desperate screams reached his ears did feeling come back to him and he lurched forwards, muttering healing spells to no avail. Pale hands grasped at thin air as the boy he hated with a passion thrashed around and yelled, squirming and convulsing as his body morphed. Harry did the only other thing he could think of as he realized with a pang that his spells were useless, and he instinctively reached out and grabbed Malfoy's juddering head and cradled the teen to his chest. The terrible cries were muffled by Harry's robes as the hands tugged at them, seeking comfort as the pain came in waves and strangled sobs broke from the boy's stinging throat. Harry's mind blanked and he simply acted on impulse as he ran his fingers through the silky blonde locks and whispered comforting words, rocking his nemesis slowly as the boy jerked and clawed at him. For the first time in his life he wanted to help Malfoy as the teen's eyes rolled back into his head and the chilling noises worsened.

Clutching the skull to him he stroked the hair and tried to comfort his fellow wizard as his heart encouraged the contact, warmth flooding his body as the cries softened slightly. Taking some hope from this fact he continued stroking and rocking and murmuring, remembering physical contact was what he sought when he was in pain. He pulled the boy further into him when the juddering stopped and the noises turned to soft whimpers and weak hands grabbed at him pulling him in closer.

The two remained like that for a long while before something shifted inside Malfoy, and Harry, oblivious to this, moved the other boy into a more comfortable position as he forced his breathing to return to normal in the otherwise silent room. It did not occur to him that the teen he cradled in his arms was not making those sounds as he should have, and behind closed lids the eyes were deep red. A last wave flowed through the blonde, sending a shudder rippling down him. Then all was still and Harry tilted his head back against the wall he was sitting up beside. His arms surrounded the slim yet muscular form of perfection as they recovered from the incident, but he failed to feel the nostrils flare as his deliciously flawless neck was exposed. The vampire shifted slightly, nuzzling his face into the crook of the young wizard's neck and smirking slightly as the steady pulse of Harry throbbed against his own feverish skin. The last remnant of Draco Malfoy protested weakly before the monster he had become clamped hot lips against the brunette's neck, earning a gasp and a moan as emerald eyes clouded over. The vampire chuckled into the skin as his scent, the odour that would overpower any mortal, washed over his victim leaving him defenseless. A slippery tongue washed over the area between the lips, tasting the succulent flesh joyfully.

Harry's badly entranced body automatically moved itself closer despite the brain screaming at it to stop. The vampire was maddeningly close to him, and he shuddered with anticipation as a beautiful scent wafted up through his nose so strong it overpowered the scent of the blood on the floor. He let forth a gasp as the mouth collided with his neck, his head spinning and relishing the feeling of the tongue sliding over his exposed skin, nipping and sucking at the same spot as stars danced before his eyes and the warmth from the mouth spread over his entire body. His hands were limp at his sides as the lips massaged his neck and when he let a low, entranced moan escape his lips he felt the vampire smirk into the kiss.

The hazy feeling immediately drained from his body when he felt needle-sharp teeth sink into his skin. With a startled cry he shoved the body away from him, feeling the two fangs rip his skin a little before being torn away with the rest of the body. Harry shot up, the suddenly cold air hitting him like a splash of water, and the saliva on his neck mixed with his blood and stung ferociously. Free of the lusty spell he swayed on his feet and slid along the wall to the corner. Outrage flooded through him as he clutched his dripping neck, pain biting at the wound like the pearly teeth that had made it. The bewitching scent vanished and the sharp tang of blood refilled his nostrils and he drew his wand from his pocket.

A roar sounded from the vampire as it was deprived of his meal, and it launched itself at Harry, who flicked his wrist, yelling:"Protego!"

The creature flung itself against the shield, snarling viciously as another spell hit it squarely in the chest and sent it flying across the room to collide with the stone wall with a sickening thud. It shifted into a crouch, flexing sinewy muscles before racing towards the panting wizard once more. The same spell was used, and with the same effect yet the vampire still got up and seemed unharmed. For a few minutes this terrible cycle continued until the monster made a different attack and dodged the spell sent by spinning on one foot. It knocked Harry's wand from his hand and sent it skittering across the stone before colliding with the opposite wall, shortly followed by the beast who had been hit by the last minute shielding charm. It seemed to snicker as Harry's eyes widened in a sudden, uncharacteristic fear.

With a petrifying screech the thing pushed off against the wall and glided across the room, and all Harry could do was watch as the deep red irises glittered with glee with every step the perfect body took. All of a sudden, the orbs flickered back to silver and he heard Malfoy groan as he quickly altered his path and flung himself against the door. Shakily, he stood and stumbled over to Harry's wand, and kicked it backwards towards its' owner before the thing took hold again, and his now red eyes glowed in the half-darkness, watching Harry's wand roll towards him.

Quick as a flash the beast lunged forward and snatched up the holly wand, and tossed it lightly aside. One look into those bloodcurdlingly amused and hungry eyes told Harry that after that last appearance, Draco wasn't coming back in a hurry. But then the creature paused, looking dismayed as he stroked its two elongated teeth with an index finger. A tiny red droplet slid off the tooth onto the digit, and the monster quivered as the copper tang wafted up into his nostrils. The blonde head twitched as it brought the finger down to his mouth, and the tongue flicked out experimentally.

The moment the tongue and Harry's blood connected, the beast went into a frenzy. The vampire flung himelf off walls and let out chilling wails as his body recoiled and shuddered. The blood sent the beast into ecstasy as his deep rooted need was fulfilled and it relished the taste as the droplet trickled down what had been Malfoy's throat.

Powerless, Harry watched in horror how the beast reacted to his blood and his emerald eyes fell on his wand. But before he could make a move for it the room fell silent as the creature froze, seeming to comprehend that more blood could be had. Harry closed his fingers around the wound and tried to stifle the bloody odour as the vampire advanced once more, licking his lips. Harry pushed the solid form of Malfoy away as the beast became near enough to touch, but he knew the effort had been in vain. He hissed at him, and a familiar smirk had made its way onto stolen features. Hot hands were placed against Harry's neck and breathed in the scent of the blood as his head lowered. The brunette felt the heavy form push him into the wall and slide a tongue across his wound, cleaning it of blood before his pulse pushed out more droplets into the open air. The beautiful body of Draco pinned him to the wall as the beast ran a hand through Harry's hair, forcing him to expose his neck still further. Savoring the moment, he brought feverish lips to the wound and began to suck slowly.

Harry was once again entranced by the wonderful vanilla smell and it was not pain that flooded through his body as his blood was consumed. He concentrated on breathing and the warm body near him as his scar began to throb and his ears rung, his emerald eyes becoming dull.

But then light once more entered his world as the door burst open and Draco's body was wrenched away from him and flung into a corner. A striking man with blood red hair and ice blue eyes caught Harry as his knees buckled, and impossibly perfect arms lifted him into a hastily transfigured armchair. Harry thought he heard an outraged shriek and his drowsy body forced his eyes to fully open. Numbly, he gazed as another figure forced the vampire up against the wall, restraining the bellowing creature with slender arms and a menacing feminine growl. Harry's spine tingled as his sharpening eyes watched her two canine teeth elongate and a snarl rip forwards from her throat. The stunningly beautiful woman chained the other vampire to the wall with a flick of her wrist and watched sadly as it thrashed and screamed. She murmured words of comfort to it, stroking the shuddering hair before turning to Harry and gliding across the room to him, her teeth shrinking and a worried look entering her oceanic eyes as the man firmly pressed a handkerchief against Harry's neck.

"Let me see," she demanded. Harry's fatigued body felt the cloth be removed from his skin and his eyes watched her grimace then sigh. "At least it's not deep. I'm seriously going to kill Albus." The man replaced the makeshift bandage and muttered a few healing charms that made Harry's neck feel pleasantly numb. He didn't have much time to appreciate this before Professor McGonagall swept into the room in all her stringent glory.

"Merlin!" She cried, usual haughty air vanishing as she saw the thrashing form of Draco Malfoy. Sleep pulled at his eyelids and made his whole body relax into a half slumber. He barely witnessed the brief conversation between the three adults in the room. All he knew was that soon enough the clinks of Draco's chains faded away as his teacher helped him up to Gryffindor tower. He was fast asleep before they got there.

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter, but I couldn't really find a better point to finish it on without making it too long! ^-^ I've never written anything like this before and it took an awfully long time. Hopefully the next chapter should be up by tuesday-sorry for the wait!

As I said, this is the first gory/lemony thing I've written, but I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out. Did you recognise the characters that appear to save the day? I'm not sure if I made them sound recogniseable-oh well! My thanks to my excellent betareader, Aki Vos.

First off, I apologise to for accidentally leving out your name on the review reply! T^T Sorry!

**Yana5: :P Your prediction was correct. Then again, how could I really wish bad things upon Harry? He's so nice!**

**Mandraco: :D Thanks! Hope you liked this one, too. Alot of Harry and Draco interaction...kind of...**

**RRW: He'll shift between vampire and human for a few months, before his mind either manages to fight off the poison or not. Yes, his father managed to stop the bite in time ^-^**

**Sora Black1245: I'm not quite sure what your comment was about, it confused me for a while. I know there was some insight into Narcissa and Draco, but I'm not sure what. What do you mean?**

**xelitespellingx: I'm honoured to have made your day! That makes mine, too. I'm sory I left this one on kind of a cliffhanger, too. **

**Renae: This chapter was crazier still! Muhhahha - hope you enjoyed it!**


	8. Chapter 8: The Malfoy Mask

The next morning Harry was partially healed. His wound had been seen to by Madam Pomfrey during the night; the nurse had summoned him from Gryffindor tower, and with Ron's help he managed to make it to the Hospital Wing and back in time for a few restless hours in his bed. Horrific images flashed before his haunted eyes as he struggled to sleep and forget the chilling events he had just witnessed in the Room of Requirement.

His overactive brain was ticking over the events, and he felt pity mixed in with a deep sense of curiosity overwhelm him. His mind was humming with a million questions he knew he probably wouldn't find out the answers to, but nevertheless they plagued him.

How would he act around Malfoy now? He knew now why the blond had been so averse to Harry witnessing the transformation, it truly was a private matter. But then there was the physical contact the two had shared, and despite it being in comfort it made Harry shiver in disgust at the thought of touching the Slytherin, his rival. As if to quench this, pity swamped through him teamed with a few flashing images of the immense pain the other boy had gone through. The incident seemed worse even than his encounters with Voldemort, already there was an aura of darkness and fear collecting around the memory in his mind. These conflicting emotions were confusing to say the least.

On the one hand, there were the numerous events in which the two had openly displayed their hatred for each other in a series of cruel actions. On the other, Harry was the one who had rejected Malfoy's friendship proposal on their fist day, and there were the events of last night. He had unashamedly cradled Malfoy's head in his arms but Harry flushed with anger and embarrassment as he recalled the kiss the young male had bestowed upon his neck, one which had so quickly turned into a hostile act. He rubbed the sore spot on his neck absent-mindedly, pondering whether or not it had truly been Malfoy who had done that. The crimson eyes flashed before his own and his spine tingled as he remembered the viciousness of the attacks.

Another question swum to the surface. Who were those two unfairly beautiful people? Judging from the woman's teeth he guessed they too were vampires, but what role did they play in this? The blonde woman seemed to know both Draco and Albus, but how?

Sighing, Harry chewed on a piece of toast and winced at the twinge of pain he felt when he swallowed. He glanced over at Hermione as he felt her gaze fall upon him and a worried expression crept onto her face.

"Harry are you sure it's not too painful? You do tend to be stupidly stoic sometimes, you know." She said, rolling her eyes at a few memories that came to her.

"I'm fine, honestly 'Mione. Besides, I wouldn't miss Ron's first match for the world." The brunette shot a cheeky grin at his pale-face friend, who seemed as uninterested in breakfast as Harry was. His eyes were wide with worry and fear so Harry patted him on the back reassuringly.

"It's not so bad, Ron. Once you get out there you forget about the hundreds of people watching your every move."

Ron gulped and stared at his porridge as the Gryffindors around him chuckled.

"Yes, thank you for your comforting words, Harry," Hermione smirked before smiling encouragingly at Ron. "You'll do fine Ron. I saw you practising with Angelina the other day, you're not bad!"

This brightened the redhead up considerably. "Yeah," he muttered, not so much to everyone else as it was himself. "I can do this. All I need to do is focus and I'll be fine!" Harry smiled weakly as he watched the Weasly shove food down his throat with renewed gusto, knowing that he would probably be seeing it again in a few hours time.

"At least we can be sure that Malfoy can't screw things up today." Hermione whispered. "From what Harry's told us he'll be out of action for quite some time."

Harry had only told them a few parts of the story. Mainly he chose to tell them how he had been bitten, he didn't entirely feel ready to tell them how he had been kissed on the neck. Or how he had willingly touched his nemesis. He fought to suppress a blush rising to his face as Hermione watched, the blood rushing to Harry's features piquing her curiosity. She had suspicions that there was a whole lot more to tell, but she decided to hold her tongue and no ask any questions. If Harry chose not to tell them something she was sure he had a very good reason. She sighed before returning to her book.

* * *

The match being only a few hours away, a terrified Ron bid them a hasty goodbye and stumbled out of the portrait hole to prepare on the Quidditch pitches. Harry, being the reserve seeker was longing to go with him but Madam Pomfrey had forbidden it. The most he could apparently stretch to today was going down and watching the game, let alone taking part.

Frustrated, he peeled off the bandage before a horrified Hermione as he sat in front of the fire. Seeing her face, he quickly replaced them once he had performed a simple numbing charm the school nurse had taught him - a quick yet effective pain relief. Hermione had gone chalk white as she stared, transfixed, at the now re-bandaged neck.

"Harry," she croaked. "You can't honestly tell me that isn't painful."

He shrugged. "Malfoy's suffering a lot more than me. It's not so bad when I use that spell."

"Do you think you should go and see him?" She asked tentatively.

He snorted. "This is Malfoy we're talking about, Hermione. In case you'd forgotten."

She flinched. "Just because it's Malfoy doesn't mean he doesn't need help. I admit, he may be loathe to accept it but I'm sure he needs comfort. He is still partly human you know."

"Malfoy and I have hated each other for years, 'Mione. It's not about to change."

It was her turn to shrug. "I've been reading up on vampires, too Harry, and not just the parts in our Defence Against the Dark arts book. They're exactly the same as humans in most respects and just because they're killers doesn't mean they don't need help. It's in their nature to crave contact no matter what form. Even if you just argued or fought with Malfoy I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"Look, Hermione. I hate Draco Malfoy, he hates me, and I refuse to go and scamper to him and offer comfort that he will take extreme pleasure in rejecting. I owe him nothing; we've despised each other for years! Just leave it at that." Harry snapped, anger bubbling in his stomach.

Hermione flinched and hurt flashed through her chocolate eyes for a moment. "Why are you getting annoyed with me? Just because I advised you to help someone in need doesn't mean you have any right to have a go at me! I know it's Malfoy, I don't particularly like him either, especially after some of the things he's said to me, but I thought that you of all people should know what it's like to be alone and in pain, you went through it for eleven years for Merlin's sake!" She stood up in a flurry of bushy hair. Gathering her books into her arms, she said: "I know you don't have a heart as far as Malfoy is concerned but at least try for Dumbledore!" And with that, she marched up to the girl's Dormitories, leaving Harry to sit and stare numbly into the fire, drinking in her words.

* * *

Harry decided to go in his invisibility cloak. It was a kind of compromise - he would help Draco if the blond needed it, but if not he could escape with his dignity intact. He had approximately an hour before the match begun.

The first thing he noticed as he came along the corridor was the silence. It was eerie - most of the students had started making their way down to the pitches already to get the best seats. He was relieved to see that the door was still open to him and he noiselessly pushed it open and slipped inside, instantly sliding into a corner and letting the door swing shut.

The figure of Draco Malfoy did not move as the door swung shut. He simply hung on the cold stone wall, ignoring the chill and ache as his back was pressed against it and instead simply focused on breathing. Manacles cut into his wrists and ankles and the heavy chains clinked when he moved slightly, sliding his back into a crevice where it would be more comfortable. The sound rent the silence that hung alongside him, damp and heavy and cold.

The chains held him in place, a foot off of the ground and securely fastened to the dark stones which echoed his every shallow breath. Though he had already found that this particular bodily function was no longer necessary, he found it comforting - the only shred of normality in this horrifically ludicrous situation. He did not feel glittering emerald orbs watching him as he struggled to keep his eyes open, nor did he hear the muffled breathing a true hunter would have. He groaned as a dull ache settled over his body and he writhed against the mossy stones in a fruitless effort to make himself more comfortable. It didn't occur to him to worry that his shirt and trousers would be ruined. He thought he was alone now, so didn't much care. Here was a time where he could relinquish his icy demeanour and show human emotions, but the thing that worried him now was the fear that they weren't quite so human any more.

Harry slid slowly down the wall, back protesting as it was grated against the large uneven stones. He couldn't draw horrified eyes away from the blond, and nor for the moment did he wish to. The young man was limp and hung against his bonds, platinum hair dishevelled and encrusted with blood. Dull silver eyes were present in the perfect features but otherwise the terrible transformation Harry had witnessed seemed to have had little effect on Malfoy. His eyes became hazy and he forced himself to blink as he stared at the remains of the Malfoy he knew, watched as the pieces of the Malfoy mask crumbled into dust. Suddenly Harry was wracked with guilt. He shouldn't be here, this was unfair on the blond, spying on the young wizard in his darkest days when he thought he was alone. Harry jerked upright, wincing as one particularly jagged stone on the wall snagged his robes and punctured the skin underneath them. His eyes widened in panic as he almost watched the scent of blood waft over to Malfoy and the blond's head snap up, suddenly crimson eyes boring straight into the space where Harry stood, invisible, transfixed with horror and unsure of how to act.

A bloodcurdling cry echoed round the small room and an old oak door opposite Harry burst open in reply. The sudden noise attacked Harry's ears, startling from his trance and forcing him to move as the red-haired vampire from the night before seemed to flash into existence beside the writhing form of the blond, hands stroking the silvery locks and whispering soothing words, administering seemingly ineffectual potions and casting charms with muttered syllables.

A woman ghosted in through the open door after the man and instantly Harry knew who she was, even before the blood-red-haired man hissed her name.

"Narcissa," he warned, shooting her ain irritated glare. She smiled softly, something dark flashing in her eyes for a millisecond, before:

"Don't order me around, young man. I can see my little son if I want to." She spoke softly, so quiet that Harry barely heard her above her son's chilling shrieks and yells.

"Draco, darling!" The beautiful woman crooned, cupping her son's face in her perfectly manicured hands. "It's alright, Mummy's here, Mummy's got you." Something about the woman made the Gryffindor's blood run cold as she soothed the young man, something about her was cold, chilling and fake.

He was reminded of Bellatrix Lestrange as he saw flickers of madness in her sparkling eyes.

"Mother," Malfoy croaked calming down but still straining against his metal bonds in a vain effort to shy away from his mother's touch. For the first time in his life, Harry saw a flicker of emotion other than hatred and mischief in those stormy eyes. Betrayal.

"Mother, you did this."

She laughed a tinkling, musical laugh that sent shivers down Harry's spine as he shifted inch by inch towards the door.

"Yes, my dove. But when it's over we can be beautiful forever, together. It's your nasty Daddy's fault that this is so painful, dearest. If he hadn't stopped Miss Synthra from finishing you wouldn't be in so much pain, would you? Bad Lucius. But it's going to be fine, Mummy's here to take care of you." She spoke as if to a three-year-old and how terrifying that was. Her light tones and pale beauty contrasted the darkness hidden in her speech and her glittering eyes. Emerald orbs flitted towards the younger Malfoy to see what his reaction would be to this terrifying little speech.

"Father tried to help…" he whispered, and Harry saw that Malfoy was realising what his mother was becoming for the first time. " Mother, you…"

"Nonsense my love. Mummy just wants you to be as pretty as her." She stroked her son's pale cheek with long, spindly fingers until he flinched away from her touch.

"Mother, you're freezing. What have you done to us?"

His mother's façade vanished as soon as those words had left pearly white lips, and she stiffened before drawing her hand back to slap her son around the face. No sooner had it happened that the man who had just recently been standing on the sidelines and sniffing curiously in Harry's direction pounced on the woman, pinning her to the ground with a look of cold hatred in equally icy eyes.

"Narcissa!" He barked. "You shouldn't even be here. I only allowed you to stay because Miss Synthra is away, but when she returns I will not hesitate to throw you out for good." Freeing a hand yet still pinning the maniacally giggling woman to the ground he drew his wand from royal blue robes and cast a quick charm, lulling the woman into an enchanted sleep.

Only when Harry saw the broken expression on Malfoy's face did he realise it was time to leave.

* * *

Numbly, he dropped his cloak into the trunk by the side of his four poster bed before flopping down onto the soft sheets and staring blankly up at the scarlet material above him. Gryffindor had won the match much to Ron's delight, so Harry had feigned happiness for a while and endured the festivities for as long as he could. But eventually the time came where it was acceptable to retreat up to bed, and Harry seized the opportunity. So now he lay alone in the dormitories, his mind's eye not relinquishing it's image of Malfoy's broken features. Pity washed over him, fear, sympathy and helplessness washing over him in one great wave of desperation. Hermione had been right in more ways than even she had thought.

"Harry?" Her voice called softly, echoing around the dark room. He answered with a grunt, unable to tear his eyes from a particular spot on the barely visible material a metre or so above him.

"Are you alright?" Again he grunted a reply and all was silent until the mattress squeaked as she sat at the foot of his bed.

"How did it go with Malfoy?" Hermione asked, unsure of her friend's expression thanks to the darkness that surrounded both of them.

"Not well." He replied.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She enquired tentatively, squinting through the darkness towards the two round pieces of glass that flashed silver in the little light there was.

"Well, I went in in my invisibility cloak like you said." He paused, wondering how much information he should relay to her. " He's chained to the wall in there, and the male vampire and his mother are taking care of him." No matter how cheery he tried to make it sound, her female intuition teamed with his "not well" from before caused her to furrow her brow in concern and confusion. Sensing this rather than seeing it, he continued.

"His mother's…well…she doesn't seem entirely sane to me. It seemed like the man was taking care of them both rather than the two adults looking after Malfoy."

"And how did he look?"

A long silence ensued before Harry made a noncommittal noise, still debating with himself over what he should give away.

"That bad?"

He sighed, knowing it was nigh on impossible to keep things from her. "Yes."

She mirrored that sound, exhaling dramatically. "I'll have to think about what we can do. Do you think he'd accept our help?

Harry reluctantly sat up, beams of moonlight sliding over his glasses. "He didn't know I was there. I don't know how he'd act around me if he did."

"Well considering what you said you saw, I would say that you probably should let him know. Malfoy's are nothing if not proud, and he may find it embarrassing that you caught him and his family at that moment."

The wizard winced at the brunette's words. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he confessed to the blond. It did seem an overly private matter, and he had been intrusive. Guilt added itself to the flurry of emotions in his mind and he groaned inwardly, but he still nodded in acceptance as he recalled Ron saying something similar to him.

"I won't tell Ron," she said hastily, before wishing him goodnight. "I'll try and think up something for the morning. It's Sunday tomorrow and we have a charms essay due on Monday."

This time he groaned out loud before the door swung shut behind her and he removed his glasses, muttering a quick spell to change him into his nightclothes before wriggling underneath soft covers and trying to force himself to sleep.

* * *

He woke to the sound of Neville falling out of bed, as did his roommates. They all groaned sleepily.

"Fuck's sake, Neville." Seamus moaned, covering his eyes with his pillow in an attempt to shield them from the light that poured in through an inconvenient hole in his bed curtains.

"Sorry! Sorry!" The wizard squeaked, tugging on a pair of trousers - endeavouring to be speedy but quiet.

Harry sighed, knowing that the little sleep he had managed to get would be his lot. He slowly drew back the drapes around his bed and swung his legs over the edge, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"What's the rush, Nev?" He asked groggily, not yet noticing how the other young man had tugged a jumper on inside out.

"I need to finish my transfiguration essay but the spell I use to wake me up didn't work early!" The wizard explained, curly brown hair refusing to settle into a presentable shape.

Harry stood groggily. "Jumper's inside out Nev," he said after he had put his glasses on. Thankfully he, Hermione and Ron had finished all homework the day before. "You can copy a bit of mine. Should be somewhere in my bag."

Quickly muttering his thanks, the Gryffindor seized Harry's book bag and rifled through the various scrolls of parchment before settling onto the floor and summoning a quill and blank parchment. He yelped as the ink splashed all over him and he struggled to his feet, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Neville," Ron pleaded from behind a curtain. "If I fix that will you please shut the hell up?" Several voices grunted in agreement as the young man in blushed guiltily and whispered his gratitude as the ink disappeared from his jumper after a pale and freckled hand had reached it's wand.

"C'mon Nev," Harry mumbled after quickly dressing and running a hand through untameable brown

hair. "I'll help you with your essay in the common room."

The two left the room, Harry chuckling as he heard Dean sigh "finally". They jogged down the steps in the early-morning light, orange beams flitting across their faces as they moved down the spiral steps.

Hermione was already there; sitting by the fire near a whispering Padma Patil and Lavender Brown. As usual her head was buried in some book or another, so Harry took advantage of this and led Neville to a separate table where Hermione could not stop him letting the other wizard copy his essay.

"Morning 'Mione." He greeted receiving a brief nod in reply before the head turned back to the yellowy pages.

"Morning Harry!" The two other girls giggled simultaneously, leaving a slightly startled Harry to smile weakly in their direction though not without noticing Hermione roll her eyes.

He helped Neville through the essay, occasionally reciting parts from his own piece of work. Monday mornings were always the worst, he thought whilst reciting. A whole week of lessons ahead and double potions in a few hours time. The only enlightening factor was the three hours of Defence against the Dark arts the next day.

People began to stumble into the common room, Monday morning dampening the liveliest of spirits. Another party had followed Saturday night's victory celebration and Harry saw the regret in many students' eyes.

When Ron finally emerged and Neville ran off to find Luna after completing his essay, the trio went down to the Great Hall for breakfast together. Lessons started in half an hour and they joined the steady stream of people heading towards the dining area, and was pleased to see that Snape was not in his usual place as he settled onto the Gryffindor bench and began to pile food onto his plate.

Hot porridge burned his throat, waking him up a little, and the pumpkin juice that followed was tasty enough to shake the last few tendrils of sleep away. Ron still looked exhausted as he yawned his way through breakfast, blindly bringing bacon to his mouth with half-closed eyes.

"For goodness sake, Ron. If it's so hard to get up in the mornings, then why not go to bed a little earlier?" Hermione reprimanded gently noting her friend's actions. Dean kicked Ron awake when his head drooped dangerously low to his cereal, and not even hot buttered toast could perk him up.

"Bloody potions soon," he murmured, stabbing at a sausage sleepily. "Thank Merlin I did the essay."

"What essay?" A voice squealed, and Harry sighed deeply as Neville spilled water all down himself.

"You've already done it, Neville." Luna said thoughtfully, the water evaporating with a lazy flick of her wand. "You finished it when I hung up the last of the biscuits. To give to the Nargles, remember?" She was sitting at the Gryffindor table lately, most of the time in deep discussion with strangers about the existence of various creatures. She fiddled with her earrings absent-mindedly. "Ronald, you have some jam in your hair."

"Humh?" Ron grunted, having regressed into a state where intelligible words were impossible.

"I said-" She paused and tilted her head thoughtfully, a smile dancing on her lips.

The doors to the room burst open, and hundreds of heads turned to the doorway as three graceful figures seemed to glide down the large pathway to the Head chair through the tables.

All mouths hung open as the breathtaking woman swept across the floor, scarlet robes billowing out behind her and thick golden hair brushed against her shoulders like a lion's mane. Glittering blue eyes beheld the scene before her and she beamed as she walked, her bare feet occasionally emerging from her robes as she seemed to dance down the cold stone floor.

Behind her came the striking male vampire as he followed her, royal blue robes whipping out behind him in a fashion that must have taken decades to perfect. Ice blue eyes melted many a heart as they swept over the multitude of students. His blood-red hair fell in slanted spikes across his dark-rimmed eyes and his ghostly pale complexion exaggerated his handsome features.

And behind him sauntered Draco Malfoy. Stormy grey eyes laughing as he instantly became part of the centre of attention. If it were possible, he was the most stunning of the three.

Platinum blonde hair fell in graceful waves away from his perfectly pale face, and his softly pointed features made him seem effortlessly elegant. He seemed taller and stronger, muscles rippling underneath his tight school shirt as he strolled behind the other two vampires. He was slim and refined, the image of sophistication and sex appeal. He glowed with both of those qualities, and the Adonis-like-blond seemed to know that as he flashed the world a brilliant, seductive smile, slightly sharp teeth flashing in the morning light. His tie gleamed sliver and emerald, and his cloak seemed a deeper black than before. A few feminine gasps and squeals sounded as sparkling eyes swept over the room, and suddenly he broke off from his path when the three impossibly alluring figures reached the teacher's table. He slipped into his place at the Slytherin table, smirking as many eyes followed his every move lustily.

The attention returned to the other vampires as Dumbledore rose from his seat and made his way around the main table to stand before the two for a moment, before:

"Miss Synthra! Wonderful to see you!" He bowed.

"Albus, likewise." She smiled before the elderly man drew her into a hug.

Needless to say, the entire room was shocked.

* * *

**Once again, thanks to my betareader Aki Vos!**

**RRW: Ta da! I hope I answered all your questions, and thank you for the wonderful compliment ^-^ hope you enjoyed this chapter**

**Yana5: Well, I think he should like all blood, but perhaps especially Harry's. I'll see how it turns out :P**

**hajmi2003: Thank you! I thought long and hard about that transformation. I wondered what it would be like, and what has to happen then I wrote it down :) Hopefully after this chapter you recognise the two vampires from the first chapter? **

**xelitespellingx: Heh - I love the couple too! They should have been together in the book T^T Sorry if this chapter is kind of a cliffhanger too **

**: Insane? I hope thats a good thing :P You'll find out how Draco will end up eventually. Hopefully you'll be happy with it **

**Nikotehfox: Thanks, I was a little worried about it! I love vampires, too. They rule and I sorta wish they were real ...in a way. Apart from the fact I'd be a bit scared of getting eaten - but hey!**

**loved-less: Thanks you so much! It makes me squeal like a fangirl when I hear such lovely things being said about my work ^-^ (and I know- Draco IS gorgeous - drool)**


	9. Chapter 9: Heat Wave

It was a good while before the majority of people in the room could move once more. It was even longer before their minds could actually draw themselves away from the events that had just occurred before their own very startled eyes. The stunning woman was deep in conversation with the headmaster and as the room was completely silent, every word could be heard. Minerva McGonagall noticed this and stood up abruptly, commanding the students to get on with their breakfasts before sending teachers to send stragglers from their seats and out of the doors in an effort to clear the Great Hall as fast as possible.

Hermione closed her mouth and blushed as her brain was one of the first to slide back into gear, and she sent swift and painful kicks into the shins of the two boys opposite her. Harry turned to her, mouth slightly open and stunned looking eyes glassy as his spectacles. Ron simply did not move at all, eyes fixed on the woman standing before Dumbledore. Which wasn't where her other friend was looking at all.

"Ronald! Ronald Weasley!" Hermione hissed, students filing past her and filtering through the giant oak doors, instantly erupting into hushed whispers once they were out of the room. Everyone was looking simply pleasantly surprised now, yet many walked sluggishly to their first lessons. Harry pinched his arm and muttered a spell under his breath, instantly awakening himself from a lust induced doze. His emerald eyes sparkled once more as he dragged Ron to his feet, but they kept flickering to his left every few seconds. Ron grunted in protest as he was spun round and marched from the room by Harry.

Harry's senses were in overdrive and his pulse was racing through his veins. He was sure everyone could hear his accelerated heartbeat, for it was the only thing he could hear. It pounded in his ears and he listened to his ragged breathing as he hauled his friend from the room. He muttered a string of swear words under his breath as he realized he must have cast the awakening spell wrong, and the other use of the words were to drown out the maddening sound of his own heartbeat resounding in his ears.

"That was totally unnecessary!" Hermione snapped angrily, throwing deadly glares at the doorway and the people inside the dining hall. "There was no need for that! I'm appalled that Dumbledore allowed such behavior on school premises!"

Harry nodded numbly, not really taking in what she was saying as he waited for his slowing pulse to return to normal. He barely felt Ron break free of his hold as the redhead returned to normal. "What are you on about, 'Mione? That woman was bloody gorgeous! Right Harry?"

Feeling light headed now, Harry was beginning to wonder if he should do the uncharacteristic thing of heading straight to the Hospital Wing. "Huh….who?"

"Oh come on Harry, don't pretend you didn't see her! The unbelievably hot woman who walked into the Great Hall just a few bloody minutes ago! You're not telling me you were the only guy in there who wasn't staring at her? She walked in and stood in front of that other guy and Malfoy!"

Suddenly all the blood rushed to Harry's face. He blushed furiously as he coughed and spluttered in astonishment at the image that rushed to the front of his mind. He began to wheeze and clutched onto the banister for dear life as Hermione scolded Ron for something or another.

"Oi, Harry mate. Are you alright?" Ron suddenly realized something was wrong with his friend and slapped him hard on the back, unwittingly slamming Harry into the cold stone.

"Yeah." Harry wheezed; his face returned to normal as he struggled to regain his composure. "I'm fine, thanks Ron."

"They shouldn't be allowed to do that." Hermione resumed her furious muttering once she had ascertained that Harry was alright.

"Do what?" Harry enquired hoarsely, eager to keep his mind occupied whilst checking his wand for faults. 'What had gone wrong with that spell?'

"Vampires shouldn't be allowed to use their luring charms in a school for Merlin's sake!"

"Calm down, 'Mione. What the hell are luring charms anyway?" Ron asked, though he sounded far away and disinterested.

"Vampires naturally have the ability to make most humans feel strongly attracted to them, it's part of what makes them such excellent hunters. I'm just saying that such a thing should not be allowed here with so many impressionable and emotionally vulnerable students."

Ron rolled his eyes whilst Harry looked vaguely relieved. "Hermione," Harry began. "How long does this sort of thing last, and who does it affect?"

"Well it affects everyone, but it varies in strength," she declared proudly, pleased that she could finally use and show off the wealth of information she had collected on this particular species solely for his benefit. "For example, because Ronald is rather weak minded, he will feel a very strong attraction to the female vampire when they are in close proximity provided she is using her charms." Ron seemed to be content with daydreaming about the close proximity aspect of the little speech rather than taking the time to realize he had been insulted.

That had not quite been what he had meant, so he carefully thought about what he would say so he wouldn't give too much away. "I mean, would Ron be attracted only to the woman?" Hermione visibly stiffened and cast an odd look at him. "I…I don't know actually." Looking panic stricken, she burrowed around in her bag before drawing out a leather-bound, ancient-looking tome and hefting it onto her hip, flicking through the pages.

"It says here that it depends on the strength of the charms. 'New vampires send out very powerful charms to any prospective prey, be they male or female. If one or more new vampires are present, then the prey will only be attracted to the vampire with which they are most physically compatible. If there are more mature vampires present, however, then usually the oldest will have the least effect on humans. This allows the new vampires to feed as older vampires do not require as much blood to sustain themselves. The youngest will have the most powerful, the second youngest the second most powerful, etc, etc...' So Malfoy has the strongest." Looking calmer and satisfied, she replaced the book in her bag and rubbed her hip absent mindedly.

"Then why is Ron attracted to the woman?"

"Probably because the older two have their charms on full to mask Malfoy's, or else the entire school would be…" she blushed and coughed, before smiling. "So Malfoy only affects people close to him. It's not just girls though I think. I'm willing to bet that Blaise Zabini is attracted to him." She giggled which was a most uncharacteristic thing for her to do. "You should have seen the way the entire Slytherin table was looking at him!" Still grinning, she entered their charms classroom and sat at the very end of one of the four long tables towards the back and waited for the others to join her whilst the rest of the class settled into their seats, talking animatedly of the three people that were on their minds.

"Well, I suppose the older two should have their luring charms on if that's the case, though I do hope it wears off soon. But it's nice that Malfoy has a bit of good luck, don't you think? He's been through an awful lot recently." She chirped. Harry and Ron exchanged glances of horror before Professor Flitwick began the lesson.

* * *

The Great Hall was unusually empty by the time the trio had collected their books for double potions and headed down for lunch. It was a hot day, it seemed that the heat wave had come from the south and so many students had decided to eat their meals outside and of course the house elves were only too happy to oblige. Two house tables of the hall were as usual, but the others held hundreds of meals on vanishing plates and stay-in-liquid goblets. Each grabbing a plate and goblet the three headed outside and down to the lake, to sit in the shade of a beech tree. Despite the shade, Ron's ears were as red as his face and he was muttering angrily to himself.

"Enjoying the heat wave, Ronald?" Hermione enquired with a sly smile and flashing a grin at an amused Harry.

"No, I'm not _Hermione_. It's supposed to be bloody October, not freakin' July." He ripped at his chicken leg with his teeth moodily, and viciously chewed whilst sending death glares at his two tanning friends.

"It's not that bad, Ron." Harry offered.

His redheaded friend snorted in disbelief. "It's not that bad, Ron," he mocked. "I look like my great auntie Muriel when she's bought some new blush."

Hermione laughed into her grape juice. "Wasn't it her dress robes you borrowed for the prom back in fourth year? Wow, she has impeccable fashion taste."

Ron sprung to his feet and waved a stick at her menacingly. "Shut up! It's alright for you two but I burn easily!" He sat back down with a grunt and crossed his arms, settling into a sulk. Hermione smiled to no one on particular before brushing some tiny sticks and rocks away from a patch of soil next to her and set her heavy bag down with a deep thunk.. Drawing out a potions book she flipped through the pages and began to read. Taking this as her usual conversation closer Harry settled down and propped his back against the tree, pushing his glasses further up his nose and gazing out across the expanse of water before him whilst Ron huffed and complained to his right. His stomach lurched sickeningly suddenly, and his hand flew to his scar expectantly. But no pain raced across the mark, no sharp agony occurred. He brought his hand down slowly and pressed it to his stomach, feeling his heart beat incredibly fast. Something was wrong. He looked towards his two friends desperately, eyes wide and frantic as his stomach performed somersaults and his breath grew ragged. He began to cough violently, spluttering and gasping for air as he found it incredibly hard to breathe. Out of the corner of now hazy eyes he watched Hermione spring to action beside him, and force water down his throat whilst muttering several ineffective spells.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione asked quickly, once the water was down his throat. Harry breathed quickly as the feelings in his body faded, and his heartbeat became fast, but steady and his stomach returned to its usual position. He propped himself up on his elbows and blinked rapidly, waiting for his eyes to focus and shaking his head when Ron offered to get Dumbledore. It was then that Harry saw the two silver eyes watching him from the opposite side of the thin part of the lake.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat amidst his fellow Slytherins, lounging on the grass near the lake and sinking sharp teeth into a glimmering green apple. Pansy Parkinson sat to his right, a few giggling green-tied girls watching his every move and flushing when he sent irritated glances in their direction, then diving straight back to giggling again. Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise sat to his left trying desperately to look in any direction but his and instead greeting and talking fervently to any of the dozens of Slytherins that joined their group by the lakeside.

A few teams of the bolder Ravenclaws were walking past them far more times than was strictly necessary, tossing their hair and flashing brilliant smiles his way. A few of the males in the Ravenclaw troupes simply coughed and blushed a bit before half dragging their companions away. Several clusters of Hufflepuffs had strategically arranged themselves at different distances, the closest of which had to move away as more Slytherin girls joined Pansy and started joining in the whispering.

The centre of attention, though, had not a care for all these at present. He was, in fact staring across the water towards three people sitting underneath a rather large beech tree, and eyes sparkling in amusement when one of them keeled over, causing the other two to panic. He chewed on his apple thoughtfully, not really tasting anything but rather enjoying his image with it and the stifled squeals it brought forth from the crowd of young women beside him. This was so worth the transformation.

He watched Potter struggle into a sitting position and tilted his head inquisitively to the side when their eyes met across the water. He wondered what was wrong with his nemesis that would make him keel over in such a fashion. Something painful, he hoped.

He sighed in irritation as the brunette sent him a bone chilling look and bit into his apple once more, tearing huge chunks off with his teeth. He almost chuckled when the Boy Who Lived turned pale and unconsciously brought a hand to his neck. Why were so many people doing that today? He was pretty harmless, and it wasn't as if they knew what he was. Granted, Potter did, but - he froze as his enhanced vision spotted a glimmer of white underneath the slightly cream colored old school shirt the other wizard was wearing and his nostrils flared in horror. He sat bolt upright and fixed his eyes on the bandage, then looking up into Potter's equally disgusted expression.

* * *

Harry watched Malfoy for a few seconds before he realized what was happening and quickly jerking his shirt collar up a few centimeters, covering the bandage and letting the realization sink into both of them. Malfoy was unaware of what had happened in the room of requirement, judging by the look of surprised horror he had seen on the blonde's face. Well, at least now he did. He shakily rose to his feet and muttered something about going to his potions class early, leaving a worried Ron and Hermione to sit by the tree and watch him leave.

"Potions, early?" Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Does he really expect us to believe that?" He was in the process of getting to his feet when Hermione pulled him back down and he landed awkwardly, twisting his foot. Jeers sounded from across the lake and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I know Ron. But it probably means Harry wants some time to himself."

Harry just caught her words as he walked away, a slight breeze rustling his hair and worry making lines on his face. He headed into the cool of the castle and headed towards the dungeons to think.

* * *

**Once again, thanks to my fabulous beta, Aki Vos.**

**Wow!I'm sorry about the long update time-I promise they will be more regular from now on. Once a fortnight sound good? However to make up for it I will post one in the next week or so. Please tell me what you think of the story so far, I read and reply to every review I get.**

**Rafa93: Sorry I didn't get this up very quickly, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.**

**Forever Dreamin: Sorry for the wait! Please tell me what you thought of this chapter, too ^^**

**NikoTehFox: Yeah, as time goes by it's becoming more and more likely. In fact, I've almost come to a decision on it - ahh it's so fun! Muhahah! No, she didn't change him all the way. And I was so disappointed you guessed! XP **

**RRW:Why thank you. I hope this is up to the usual standard, then ^-^**

**hajmi2003: It's lovely to read such nice comments as yours - they make my day! And as to your new curiosity, you'll have to read on to find out :)**

**PheonixShadow:Thank you thank you thank you! I adored your review, and just for you I tried to make this chapter as light as possible - hence the heat wave. Let me know what you think! :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Hunger

**Before I begin this chapter, I just want to say that the replies for all the reviews I ever get will be in the section in bold at the bottom of the chap following the review, e.g if you reviewed the last chapter, the reply will be down at the bottom of this one. Thanks!**

The dungeons were deserted, thankfully. The cold stone hallways quickly lowered Harry's temperature and he felt blissful goose bumps rise on his skin after the searing heat of the day. His mind became clear in the refreshingly cool environment and he took his place in his potions classroom, sighing as he flopped into his seat. The only sound in the room was his slowing breathing after the near sprint up into the castle and away from horrified silver eyes.

Gingerly, he reached up to his neck and patted the bandage up a little so it concealed the redness better. He groaned as a dull pain spread when his finger slipped slightly and prodded the wound in one of the tooth marks. Muttering the soothing charm he laid his head on the desk and stared into the highly polished wood.

So Malfoy didn't know what he had done? Harry groaned again, but this time pain was not the cause - he had no idea how the other teen would react. He flushed despite the icy temperature of the room as he realised the he had been so relieved that Malfoy could not recall the events of that night in the Room of Requirement, and he wondered if he should be embarrassed, or if Malfoy would be

"Hello Mister Harry." He sat bolt upright when his thoughts were disturbed as a timid voice reached his ears. He nodded his head in recognition and sent a pathetically false smile in the woman's direction.

"Miss Synthra."

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing down here? It's a lovely day outside and I didn't think lessons started for a good half hour? Was I wrong?"

He shook his head this time and winced as his neck complained and sent a sharp twinge across his body. "Ouch. Ehm, no you weren't wrong. I just came down here early to get out of the heat."

"I see." Silence reigned for a short while and the two looked awkwardly about the room until the vampire realized it was her turn to speak. With an embarrassed grin she said: "I came down looking for a book I think I left here years ago, so…."

"You were at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I was here only a few years ago. I was in the year below your father."

"You're not that old then?" He flushed again, and rubbed the back of his neck before smiling apologetically. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

She laughed nervously. "It's quite alright. No, I'm a relatively new vampire. Mister Malfoy was my first bite actually. And you're his." She gestured to the bandage barely visible through his hair and below the collar of his uniform.

He tried to hide the showing bandage, yet he could not do the same for the blush spreading onto his features. "What's the matter Mister Harry? Are you worried about your bite? I assure you it's fine and it's perfectly natural to be bitten there."

"Yeah, I kind of guessed. How did you see the bandage from that far away?" He enquired hastily, eager to change the subject.

"Well it's approximately three millimetres above your collar. And I…uh…have b-better eyesight than most people." Tapping her eye, she shuffled across the classroom to a shelf of books and seized upon an ancient looking tome, sending dust spiralling everywhere when she whisked it from its place and ran her fingers down the spine. She looked up at him shyly from underneath her fringe and smiled crookedly. "I've found my book."

"Yeah." Harry said, grinning awkwardly. "I can see that." He began to wonder what had happened to the confident, graceful woman who had entered the Great Hall with such an air of power and stature. This woman was every bit as beautiful but it seemed her confidence had vanished in a matter of hours. Now her back was slumped, and she was far less charming and eloquent. She shuffled instead of danced across the floor, she stuttered instead of letting the words flow and she was more like a mouse in a corner rather than the dominant lion she had seemed to be earlier.

"Well I must be off Mister Harry. I'm sure Mister Draco won't say anything about the bite if you don't, so I wouldn't worry about it. I hope you f-feel better soon…Uhm, will I see you at dinner?" When he answered in the affirmative, she sent him a small smile. "I think Lord Dumbledore feels a bit bad about sending you in for Mister Draco's first transformation. Can I please ask if you might consider going to see him?"

Harry nodded, a confused expression etched onto his features. Something was wrong with this woman's manners of address. Lord Dumbledore? Mister Harry?

A thud from above them made the vampire's eyes widen until she looked like a deer caught in headlights, Harry thought. She began to shake and kept her eyes glued on the ceiling for a long second before whipping round and sprinting out of the room, only pausing to turn and perform a hurried curtsy and mutter a goodbye.

Neville shuffled in a few seconds later looking startled and clutching dozens of pieces of parchment to his chest like he was in the middle of a hurricane. "Harry - did she just call me "sir"?"

Harry sighed, relaxing into his chair as he became more comfortable in this boy's presence. "Don't know, Nev. How long have we got 'til lessons start?"

"Ten minutes." Neville picked at something on his tie for a moment before rummaging in his bag and setting out the things he needed for his lesson on his desk. He turned frantic when he seemed to be missing an ingredient and began to whimper softly when the search in his bag was fruitless.

"Relax, Neville. Snape's only human."

"You don't know that, Harry. I'd be willing to bet against that any day." Seamus Finnigan strode into the classroom looking slightly warm and tanned. He plunked himself down next to the frenzied Neville and watched him for a while, evidently amused at the wide range of horrified expressions the other boy was displaying before sliding a small bottle from Neville's pocket and offering it to his friend.

"Is this what you're looking for, mate?" A relieved sound was the only answer Seamus needed and Harry joined his laughter when Neville collapsed into his chair. He clutched the vial to his chest like he needed it to live, which wasn't so far from the truth in his opinion.

Students began to file in, Hermione and a Gryffindor girl took their place behind himself and a still beetroot Ron. Harry didn't miss the concerned look on both of their faces, sunburns or not.

"I'm fine," he murmured, loud enough for just Ron to hear. The redhead gave a quick thumbs up to Hermione and cheered up considerably. He suddenly broke out into a grin.

"Hey, guess what? Luna says she's got a potion that will get rid of my sunburn." Ron hissed excitedly, before deflating like a balloon when Harry raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Ron," he sighed. "Didn't you learn to never trust one of Luna's potions? Remember what happened the last time you tried one?" The other teen could have flushed, though it was hard to tell.

"Yeah. Alright, that was bad. But she says she read this one in the Quibbler, so it can't go wrong!" Harry stayed silent, waiting for Ron to realize what he had just said. "Bugger." Right on time, the redhead cursed, good mood vanishing instantly. Perhaps her father's paper wasn't the most reliable source.

"Hermione will know a charm," Harry reassured.

"I bloody hope so. I'm sick of looking like some a freckled tomato."

Ron's sulking was interrupted by giggling and laughing from outside the classroom, and many heads looked round to watch the entrance of Draco Malfoy. Harry, however, refused to be one of them and instead focused solely on the blackboard in front of him. Even if he tried not to, his heart acknowledged the blond's presence by performing a rather elaborate jig in his ribcage. He tried to calm himself, this was ridiculous.

Malfoy just knew he had bitten Harry, he did not recall the humiliating event that had led to that. Though that thought settled his heart and relaxed him somewhat, it did not stop the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up when he felt a pair of eyes on him.

"Page forty three, the Innalorrus potion." Snape swept into the potions class with his usual air of superiority, breaking the silence Harry was enduring. "Potter, I did include you in that command. I sincerely hope you do not consider yourself too above us to follow such an order?"

Harry didn't reply, instead flicking open his textbook to the same page as Ron's.

"Excellent. I see your head is swollen more than usual Mister Potter. Is there any reason for your heightened pomposity, or have you only just realized over the weekend you are too good to speak to us?" Snape sneered at Harry's silence, and simply raised an ebony eyebrow when Harry balled his hands into fists. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Jeering sounded from the Slytherins and groans from the Gryffindors as they all pictured the rubies in the house hourglass. Harry's nostrils flared as he forgot the silver eyes for a moment and fought desperately to control his temper.

"Today we will be making the Innalorrus potion. As you all know, it cures many ailments such as…?" Ignoring Hermione, his eyes swept across the classroom before fixing on his favorite student's uncharacteristically raised hand. "Mister Malfoy?"

"Rashes, scratches and burns. Some magical bites as well." Several people in the classroom shuddered as tremors slid up their spines at the silky voice that entered their ears, and Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. Meanwhile Harry restrained himself from whipping round to stare into the silver eyes that burned into the back of his head. Fury rose within him - how dare Malfoy mock him?

"Correct, twenty points to Slytherin." Snape tapped the blank blackboard with his wand and watched as the chalk sprung up and proceeded to write instructions on the board in the graceful loops of his own handwriting. "You have one and a half hours to complete this potion. Those who do not complete it successfully will be coming back for detention as usual. Begin."

The class surged into action, eager to begin and lessen the chance of detention. Harry, still fuming, slammed his ingredients onto the table and viciously stabbed the area underneath his cauldron to create flames that licked around the black metal. Warily, Ron worked around Harry and his barely restrained temper, taking note of what step Harry was on and quietly aiding his friend where he could.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed above the murmur of conversation. "It's supposed to be yellow! Add some Monkshood."

"I'll get it," muttered Harry through gritted teeth. He weaved his way through the tables towards the open cupboard full of ingredients used to fix potions and squinted at the cramped writing on the aged labels, before grabbing the one he thought looked most like Monkshood. No sooner had his fingers encircled the container when it was snatched from his grasp and another thrust towards him.

"Monkshood, you'll find, is in the silver vial. Label fell off three weeks ago," Malfoy said, returning the wrong ingredient to the shelf and dropping the right one into Harry's hand, silver eyes locked on Harry's collar the whole time. The brunette shifted angrily, humiliated and evidently livid. Draco craned his neck to get a better look at the bandage when Harry snapped at him at the purposeful exposure of neck.

"Stop bloody mocking me, Malfoy." With that he stormed back to his seat and emptied the contents of the glass into his cauldron, ignoring Ron's faint sigh. The cauldron bubbled slightly before sending off tiny green sparks and then settling into a milky coloured mixture. It was Hermione's turn to sigh behind them as she passed Ron a few ingredients and cast a few glances in the fuming Harry's direction.

* * *

Draco Malfoy lazily added ingredients into his simmering potion, effortlessly changing its colour with a flick of his wrist and a scattering of Thorn apple. His fingers performed separate tasks as he stirred with one hand and sliced, diced and grated various things with the other and following the recipe with fluent gestures and easy, graceful movements whilst Crabbe glared at various people around the room and occasionally scuttled off to collect the required components at Draco's command.

Despite a few overly forward young women bashing into him accidentally-on-purpose, causing him to add ingredients wrong, he considered the lesson to be going rather well. The incident with Potter at the cupboard had given him the chance to inspect the damage however, and that made him slightly nauseous. Settling back into his chair, potion complete, he waved Crabbe off and stared intently at the back of Potter's head as if the unruly hair would show him what had happened in more detail. Part of him wanted to know what had occurred in the room of requirement, but the other shied away, warning him to not delve too deeply. Despite certain physical changes however, Malfoy still was basically a human and therefore he had the niggling curiosity that many of his kind suffered from. His overactive brain was creating hundreds of possible events, not many of which he particularly favoured.

Shrugging to himself, his train of thought wandered to the more pressing problem of hunger pangs. This morning he had seemed warm and full, but he could feel his altered stomach emptying, not a pleasant sensation to say the least. His enhanced sense of hearing was preying on his nerves, every heartbeat in the room was getting increasingly louder as the hours ticked by and he became hungrier and hungrier. Not to mention his improved sense of smell. The fragrant herbs Miss Synthra had lent him were becoming less and less helpful, especially since even without vampire senses he could smell Crabbe and Goyle a mile off.

His eyes flickered to his potion, sharp irises focusing speedily, letting him assess the liquid far quicker than usual. It was a shade or two off; he realized and grunted in irritation, ignoring the squeals of a few of the girls near him. Usually he would be reveling in all of the attention, he reasoned, if it were not for the growing hunger he was feeling.

In an effort to distract himself he set about creating a potion to halt the emptying of his stomach for at least a few short hours. Flicking through the book before him he skimmed the titles faster than the average eye could hope to, and conjured a separate cauldron, filling it with water with a quick flick of his wand. He almost jogged over to the shelves and collected a dozen or so vials before pushing past a few inconveniently placed Gryffindors to get back to his seat.

Henbane, Digitalis, and powdered dragon's scale all flew into the mixture as he instinctively added them with precision. He blocked out the eyes he could feel watching him as he worked, and as a sharp pain began to pierce his stomach as his hunger worsened. Faster and faster he worked, increasing urgency not hindering as much as it helped. The pain was growing stronger, stabbing at the walls of his now empty stomach and he could feel himself going into overdrive. He gnashed his teeth in frustration when he read the line: 'Let the mixture simmer for twenty three minutes and forty eight seconds, before….'

"Goyle!" He barked, summoning his crony to him. "Have you got any food?" Articulate as ever, the solid looking teen shook his head. "What about Crabbe?" Another shake. The blonde rolled his eyes and unconsciously sent his tongue flicking along his teeth as he picked up a million confused scents emanating from people, potions, objects and ingredients from around the room. Thank goodness they were in the dungeon, where the walls were thick and the overpowering smell of the incorrect potions filled his nostrils rather than smells from all over the castle.

"Goyle, I need some food, now." Small eyes flicked nervously from left to right and feet began to twitch as the well built Slytherin waited for whatever Draco wanted to appear somehow, as it usually did. Instead, all he got was a low growl of frustration coming from the blond opposite him.

"Would you like this, Draco, darling?" Pansy cooed, flaunting her relationship with the Slytherin to any unwanted competition in the class. She smiled smugly as he seized the apple she offered and devoured it in a few quick bites with a slightly mad look in his eye. She shuddered before smiling wickedly. She had noticed he was partial to apples today so she had made a point packed half a dozen in her bag, as she always did when she noticed her Draco was craving something.

Without thanking her, he simply asked for more, and she reached into her bag and produced a handful of the fruit and watched with delight as he demolished them all in quick succession before turning away and tending to his potion with a sense of urgency. The blond stared into the potion, waiting to hear the irritating Pansy girl to walk away and only moving when he heard a swish of material behind him and kitten heels clicking on the stone floor. He felt the apples slide quickly down to his stomach where thick liquid simply dissolved them before sending even sharper hunger pangs jerking through his body. Frightened eyes watched the seconds tick by agonizingly slowly.

His legs buckled under him and he collapsed into the chair, running hands through his silky, light blond locks as he gritted his teeth against the sharp pains wracking his body every three and three quarter seconds. He could smell everything, hear every heartbeat, sense every movement, and the low murmur of conversation was slowly driving him insane. He felt detached from the world by his own body, an outsider looking in on an entirely too familiar scene. He felt alien, he felt he didn't belong here - something was wrong with him.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione watched with curious eyes after the female of the group had sorted out the other's potion. They stared at the oblivious Malfoy as he jerked and twitched, his movements were sped up like he was in fast forward. It was rather like watching a video, but twice as fast, Harry thought.

It was a long while they sat there, observing him until Ron got bored and wandered off to talk to Seamus and Dean. Harry and Hermione stayed however, and watched as Malfoy sprung up and hastily bottled a vial of each of his potions, downing one and hurrying forward to slam the other container on Snape's desk before fleeing the classroom.

Crabbe and Goyle collected his things and followed a few minutes later, but by then, the famished vampire had long gone.

* * *

**Thanks to my brilliant beta, Aki Vos for helping a lot with this chapter - I can't say how much I appreciate.**

**A record number of reviews for the last chapter - I was ecstatic! You guys all made my day, please keep it up. It's lovely to hear feedback, good or bad. :)**

**Yana5: Thankyou! I tried to get this one up as quickly as possible ^^ hope you enjoyed it!**

**: Hey, and thanks! Don't worry, even if there's sometimes a long wait in between updates, I'll never truly abandon this story unless something really terrible happens. Touchwood touchwood! I know how annoying it is when you read a story then look when it was last updated then realise it probably is over T^T. So I vow to do my best and not to do that! **

**Faerie Princess of Doom: Heh, sorry about that. Sometimes I have to retype my work after my betreader has gone through it because my laptop is infuriating like that. Thanks for pointing out the errors, though! ^-^ Faerie Princess of Doom(again): Lol! So do I! I meant the colour, but now you say it that would be pretty great - unless it got hot and they melted into your eyes. Which...wouldn't be so nice. And it would be a little scary if people tried to eat them, but they are sacrifices worth making in my opinion. =P**

**lazydaygirl: Sorry! I tried to update as soon as possible but unfortunately the next one won't be up until either thursday or sunday! But I promise it will be up within a week!**

**hajmi2003: Thank you - and I'm really sorry about the long wait for the last chapter, it's inexcusable! :(**

**Hyper Hippie: Let me first just say - I love your name! Secondly, you'll have to wait and see! (Laughs evilly) **

**RRW: Yes, he bit him in the chapter where they were locked in the room of requirement. Unfortunately, Malfoy was in vampire mode then, so didn't remember doing it. No repurcussions...or are there? =D**

**Lyridium: Well thanks - its always really nice to read such reviews! Sorry this chapter didn't have much in the way of plotline, but I hope it was ok D=**

**rebelwilla: Thankyou so much! Those wolves on your picture are beautiful!**

**moriah93ohio: Yes, she's cruel in my story. I think she's a little like Mrs Rochester in Jane Eyre, but in this her son loves her dearly and it's painful for him to see what she's done to herself more than him.**


	11. Chapter 11: The Half Guilty

**I'm so sorry about the horrribly overdue update - but now the holidays are here so I can update within a week :3 thanks for your patience**

**Once again, thanks to my excellent Beta reader - Aki Vos!**

* * *

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and the evening hours were spent basking in the blissful heat of the setting sun. Bathed in orange, the trio were content as Ron snored softly, Hermione flicked absent-mindedly through books and Harry watched as some first years played exploding snap some way off. The quiet murmur of conversation filled the hot air as hundreds of students relaxed in the grounds before bedtime.

Harry rolled over onto his stomach, vaguely noting the darkened red of Ron's features. Plucking at the grass with one hand, he adjusted his bandage with another and mulled over the events of the day, his thoughts only broken by a faint bang coming from the group of first years. The hot day had clouded his mind and thankfully stopped him over thinking as exhaustion settled in and he kept slipping in and out of sleep. He couldn't keep his eyes open for long, and moreover the dull ache on his neck made sleep not unwelcome.

Meanwhile, the thought of the impending Quidditch match lingered in the back of his mind unmoved by sleep nor other thoughts. Not only was Malfoy seeker for Gryffindor instead of him, but the events of the potions lesson that morning made him wonder that something darker and more sinister than a ruined Quidditch match was going on. Was Malfoy about to change again so soon? Surely not - and besides, Harry wasn't sure if he could go through that again so quickly. A blush sprung to his face then as all of the events came back to him, and not for the first time. He was suddenly rather glad of the hot weather as he felt his face flush.

Professor McGonagall appeared on the stone steps just after he drifted off once more, and her amplified voice roused him from his doze. Everyone grudgingly began the slight ascent to the castle at her command. The castle was wonderfully cool thanks to chilly stone walls and the numerous freezing charms active around the rooms.

The trio gathered in the deserted common room in their pyjamas and sat around a table to discuss the events of their potions lesson. Harry fiddled with the hem of his frayed dressing gown whilst Hermione read aloud, and Ron rubbed ointment into his still scarlet face.

"Vampires have a three moon period called the trial period. This is generally used to sort out the weak from the strong. The weak will usually die of hunger spasms in the first few days or their bodies will simply give up, and the dark blood will be their only blood before the body has had time to adjust. This means it will literally rot." She paused for a second, looking rather ill. "The strong will have survived at the end of the three moons. This is the vampire form of natural selection. When a vampire is created, or born of two Vampire parents, it is known as a fledgling. Otherwise, it can be referred to as the maker's bite, or the parent's childe. The maker of a vampire is known as its Sire, but this title of address is rarely used unless in the highest branches of the vampire hierarchy.

"At the end of this period, the leader of a nearby clan will come and initiate the new vampire with a few rituals and tests. If the new vampire fails, he or she will be immediately disposed of. Otherwise, they will be declared an apprentice, and gradually move up the hierarchy from there. If a vampire fails to be initiated by their sixth year, they are declared an outlaw by the vampire king, and the Ministry of Magic has to allow a hunt under the Cultural Diversity Act, section 113." Hermione closed the book, sending spirals of dust into the air. "But those rules only apply for vampires who, when bitten weren't interrupted as Malfoy was. Dumbledore made that quite clear, didn't he Harry?"

The young man grimaced, remembering his brief but unpleasant conversation with the Headmaster just a few hours ago. He nodded, before saying:

"Yeah. We'll need to get more information from somewhere else rather than the library. The two others that came in with him yesterday should be able to handle him until then, don't you think? There's a Hogsmeade visit in a few weeks, we should try to find a book then."

"I still don't get why you're doing this Harry," Ron muttured resentfully. "What has the git ever done for you?"

"Because, Ronald, it's the right thing to do. And if that isn't good enough for you, it's a favour for Dumbledore. But honestly Ron, I know he's not exactly a nice person but I wouldn't wish anything like this-" she gestured towards the book hysterically "-on anyone! Not even a You-Know-Who." She finished in a hushed whisper and transfigured the book into 'Hogwarts: A History Volume VII'.

Shrugging, Ron gathered a few pillows and flopped onto them, signifying the end of the conversation and time to sleep. Hermione looked about to protest when a few heat-drugged Gryffindors started stumbling down from their dorms in seek of cooler climates than the stuffy towers, and she closed her mouth, frustrated. She too settled down for sleep, and so Harry settled down to sleep after gulping down some cool water.

The Gryffindor common room was a similar temperature, the fire in the grate licking the air with icy tongues. The reversed fire cast a blue glow across the room in which many others slept in order to avoid the stuffy atmosphere in the high up dorms. Muffled snores echoed off of many a wall as the dull heat reduced everyone to a slumber, save three in the room of requirement.

* * *

"This isn't helping."

The female looked up from the potion she was brewing to consider the youth that glowered at the world from his spot in the corner. Smiling sadly, she returned to her work and slowly added a handful of daisy petals and a pinch of ground hellibore, before stirring anticlockwise four and three quarter times.

"It's all I can do. You know we can't give you what you really need right now."

Still he glared. "There must be something. A better potion? A spell?" Sighing, Suki Synthra bottled a fraction of her finished potion then threw it lazily through the musty room to her fledgling who snatched it from the hot air and downed it without a thought before reprimanding himself and gathering his decorum.

"At least it works for a while, Draco. It won't always be like this - when I changed the hunger lasted three months, tops." She murmured consolingly.

"That's true," agreed the reclining figure on the window ledge. "But you weren't interrupted."

Suki looked into the ice blue eyes of her Sire before fixing her gaze on the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize." Draco snapped. "It wasn't your fault and I do wish you'd stop saying that."

"I didn't know it was annoy….sorry," The blonde woman blushed deeply and shuffled off under the pretence of collecting more ingredients for a second batch of the potion. Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes, but without malice, whilst the other young male in the room turned his eyes towards the moon once more without another word. As Draco felt the potion slide down towards his stomach, a feeling of numbness settled upon him. Glad for the brief reprieve from the hunger he was pleased to finally feel his mind wander away from the tedious subject of food it had been stuck on for most of the day, and it began to notice more about his surroundings as his senses became less sharp and alert. He realized that for the few months they had all known each other, that was one of the longest amounts of time he had heard the man speak.

"A…Are you worried about this weekend?" Suki enquired, tossing things to Draco from the store cupboard.

"No. Quidditch has never made me uneasy. Is there any particular reason as to why I should be concerned now?"

"No, I meant about the full moon."

Draco paled. But despite that, he said: "No. I have faith in your potion brewing abilities." His voice wavered a little towards the end, and he began to chew his lip as he counted the days. Suki jogged over and sat beside him, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It won't be as bad as it was last time. I promise." She looked at him then, her face full of sympathy but behind her eyes lay pools of guilt and regret. Then her expression hardened into one of determination and she sprung up lithely before she trotted over to begin the next potion.

"Why didn't you tell me I bit Potter?"

He watched as the two older vampires froze. Suki glanced at her Sire before sighing and setting down her ingredients and freezing the potion. There would be no more brewing tonight. Conjuring a few cushions she set them down in front of Draco and positioned herself on them, wriggling until she was comfortable and looked him in the eye. Stormy grey skies met deep oceans as she decided on her words a little more carefully than usual.

"We didn't tell you because you wouldn't like it."

"Are you serious?" Draco spluttered, rather taken aback by her simple explanation.

"You aren't mature enough to realize that it wasn't you. We were going to tell you as soon as you gained control over the vampire side of you."

"And when did you think that would be?" Draco spat.

"Well we couldn't really guess. But we knew you'd act like this! Draco, what your body does when you transform isn't something you have control over, can't you see?"

"That is irrelevant. Weakness, be it physical or mental, is not something to be shown to ones rival. That is a family value I learned from my fa…" Suddenly realizing what he was saying, he flushed with shame at the slip up. He had sworn he would never speak of his father after the man had disowned him, and now the mere thought of his family would make Draco's stomach churn and eyes prickle. But he'd be damned if he were to relay any of those feelings to anyone other than his new family, and even though it was they who were with him now, he needed a while to regain his composure. Muttering an invalid excuse about fatigue, he marched through the door in front of his to his chamber in the Room of Requirement. He heard Suki sigh softly as he sat on the bed and rested his head in his ice cold hands.

* * *

Morning was cooler, much to the relief of many of the students. Ron was beaming as he sat down to breakfast with almost-back-to-normal cheeks and he nodded his thanks to the young woman sitting across from him, who was eyeing him as he gobbled down a few forkfuls of scrambled egg.

"I think he means to say thank you for the ointment Hermione." Harry offered, absent mindedly chewing a piece of toast as he watched Marcus Belby unwrap his birthday presents.

The witch nodded, eyes fixed on the two new people sitting at the teacher's table that day. Lavender Brown nudged Hermione

"The new astronomy teacher's a bit of a dish, isn't he? Wouldn't mind spending a night under the stars with him." Hermione looked vaguely disgusted at Lavender for saying such a thing, but smiled politely and waited in silence for Lavender to carry on the conversation with Padma Patil, who was more than willing to discuss the teacher in some depth.

"Same for the new Defense." Sheamus Finnigan grinned. "This year should be interesting. But I wonder how she'll pop her clogs?"

"Sheamus!" Hermione squealed.

"What? They all do. Either that or she leaves, right?" He shrugged. "With You-Know-Who on the loose they're bound to need a good Defense teacher this year. Worried she might out-do you Hermione?" Hermione sniffed and turned her attention to the Daily Prophet, leaving Sheamus to stare at the woman sitting in between Profesor Flitwick and Hagrid with a hungry eye.

A sudden pain interrupted Harry as he ate, and his fork fell to the floor as his hands flew to his neck. He slipped off the bandage for a moment, casting a quick confounds charm to turn everyone's attention's elsewhere as he muttered his numbing spell several times over. It turned out he didn't need a distraction however.

Draco Malfoy leaned forwards and was horribly sick all over the Slytherin table. Everyone turned to look in astonishment, that quickly turned to disgust as screams, shrieks and yells echoed round the Great Hall. Wordlessly, Crabbe and Goyle stood up and placed Draco's arms over their shoulders and half carried him from the room, the blond teenager's feet dragging on the cold stone floor. The majority of the students simply watched as he was hauled up the stairs and out of sight. Noise returned to the room a few seconds after the ill Malfoy had been dragged away, and the hall erupted into noise as people reacted in many ways.

Hermione leant across the table and whispered to Harry and Ron. "We should go after him. It could be serious and I don't think Crabbe and Goyle are smart enough to deal with it if something goes wrong."

"Go if you want." Ron declared. "I'm staying to finish off my sausages. I reckon the git's just doing it for attention."

"Ronald." The tone of Hermione's voice made even Harry's hair stand on end, and Ron resignedly put down his fork.

"I hate it when you call me that." He grumbled.

Just before they had time to leave the hall Harry had time to notice that Miss Synthra was absent from the table, and Mr. Sabarra was considering the three of them with an expressionless gaze. He shivered, and tore his eyes away from the young man to follow his friends up the stone steps in pursuit of Malfoy.

* * *

The blond teen was carried into his room by the warm, fake blood-filled body of his Sire as she laid him on the bed, tucking the sheets in around him as you would a child. His stomach still churning and a little light headed from the shock, he recalled how he had not been tucked in since he was six years old, and his mother was as she has been. All nostaglia was eradicated however, as he was brought back down to earth by another lurch from his stomach and half-digested potion and apple splattered across the floor. Suki leapt up and crawled across to him, holding him upright and casting cleaning and healing charms as he gazed, glassy eyed at the stone walls surrounding him.

"How could I have done that?" He mumbled. It wasn't to anyone as much as it was to himself. Sickening images flashed before his eyes, and again the memory of a few moments ago came back to him in all its sickening glory. He convulsed, ready to vomit again as the image of two bright red, swollen puncture holes on Potter's neck ripped into his resolve, puncturing his outer shell of perfection and causing him pain as if it was he who had been bitten.

Suki fussed over him, sitting behind him and massaging his stomach whilst casting warming spells all over his body. A warmth trickled round his veins, mixing with his depleted amounts of blood so it spread more quickly, but comforting words and vague sensations did nothing to help. He simply sat and drunk in what he had done, what he would have to do if he was to survive. Normally he would reject such extreme physical contact, but hers was slightly reassuring, and his senses dulled. He heard voices from outside of the room, but they failed to register with his brain. Becoming numb, he succumbed to a few sleeping charms and slipped into a forced sleep.

* * *

Hermione watched pityingly as Crabbe and Goyle were outsmarted by Harry and insulted by Ron for a moment before she slipped into the Room of Requirement; loyal henchmen they were, but still rather flawed and rather short-changed in the brains department. She surveyed the room, noting the tasteful decorations and the large cauldron, and to her dismay another door - it seemed that there were many things she had yet to learn about the limitations of this room. Making a mental note to read up on it, she cast a one way seeing charm onto the aged wood and immediately reared back in alarm. Malfoy slept soundly in the arms of a tired looking Miss Synthra, and he didn't seem to be the perfectly composed, physical contact loathing little toad he was normally. Sensing she really didn't need to be here, and she was being more than a little intrusive then need be, she snuck back out of the room. Hiding awhile until she could nod to Harry before casting a deafening charm on Crabbe they snuck away, leaving Harry and Ron to back off and Crabbe and Goyle to believe they had been successful in their protection of the room.

"It seems they're all more closely linked than we thought." Hermione declared. "For the moment Harry, I think Malfoy is in good hands."

"Bloody hell Hermione. You sound like we're babysitting that brat."

Ignoring him, she continued. " I remember reading somewhere that physical contact is very beneficial for vampires. They have high levels of oxytocin, the 'cuddle' chemical, and so they crave contact more than they did when they were alive."

Harry blushed a little, before: "I hope Dumbledore's not suggesting we start hugging Malfoy whenever we see him."

"I honestly cannot imagine Malfoy hugging someone." Ron butted in. "I bet he'd have the same face he does when-"

"Ron!

"What? I wasn't going to say anything bad, it's just-"

"I don't want to know what you were going to say Ronald! I-"

"Don't call me Ronald!!!"

Harry smiled a little, and watched the morning through the windows he passed as his two best friends bickered. He had an odd feeling that despite the start, this was going to be a pretty good day.

* * *

**Yana5: Sadly Draco has a lot more to go through :3 but I'll make sure it's not too bad, ok? ^^**

**rebelwilla: Muhhaha! You shall have to wait and see - perhaps soon it will be Draco sucking up his pride?**

**malfoy+harry: Thank you so much for all your reviews! I enjoyed every single one of them! If you have any burning questions that aren't answered after a while in the story, please email me and I will do what I can to help. Thanks again!**

**Hyper Hippie: I'm sooo sorry this took so long! I've had exams but the summer break has arrived! Woo! I'm so glad you like Suki :3 I wasn't so sure adding OCs were a good idea, and I tried to make her not like a Mary-Sue :P haha not sure I managed that to be honest.**

**I might give you clues if I was feeling generous ^^ but half the time I just write whatever comes to mind. I have a plotline in my head of course *evil smile* but I guess I can be genie-like and answer ONE question. Partly because I'm in that wierd stage when you're really tired and just go hyper :D**

**Looking forward to speaking soon :)**

**yamimoukin: Thankyou ^^ it's always nice to have compliments. But I must do the same for you regarding your profile picture! It's amazing :3**

**fairyoftheunderworld: :D thankyou! I assure you it doesnt usually take this long for me to update!**

**BlackVirgin17: I think they might get there eventuallly ^-^ but not without problems....and of course.... fluff! :3**

**Nikotehfox: Dang it! :D Everyone's guessing my storyline! Ah well :) thanks for the review!**

**sadlysilent: I know there are issues that need to be adressed :) thankyou - any constructive criticism is priceless. Dumbledore thought that Draco wouldn't be too bad, but since his bite was disturbed he's not a regulation vampire. And yes, I get your point about Hermione too - I will deal with that shortly. I think moral support and making sure Draco didn't hurt himself or escape from the ROR. I'm also trying to make his anger fleeting, until he reaches boiling point. I would be very happy to hear any suggestions you have on that. thank you for your review!**


	12. Chapter 12: Thestrals

Thankfully, the intense heat had subsided by the afternoon as the steamy climate brought storm clouds in its wake. Lunch was mostly drowned out by raindrops beating mercilessly against the ancient stones and glass of the Great Hall, and hordes of sodden first years trudged through the doors, dripping and squelching until an older pupil took pity and aided them with a drying charm.

Hermione Granger, as usual, had her head buried in a book. She was revising the topics she thought would be useful for her next lesson - Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Hermoine. We haven't learned that stuff yet. For Merlin's sake, what are you revising it for?" Ron said exasperatedly.

"This, Ron, is called being prepared. I have no idea how effective our teacher will be, so I'm taking my learning into my own hands. It could mean the difference between a B and an A in our NEWTs, so before you remind me they're over a year away, I'll remind you it's never too early to start revising." She said cheerily.

Ron closed his mouth. But Lavender Brown was there to back him up.

"I'll never understand how you got a guy likeViktor Krum when you show such blatant disregard for your social life, Hermione," she sniffed.

"There are a lot of things you don't understand, Lavender. Maybe that's why Krum picked me and not you." She smiled sweetly as the girl looked mortally offended and turned away to instead participate in a heated discussion with Ron about the advantages and disadvantages of using a red Quaffle over a blue. Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice, satisfied.

Harry snorted into his sandwich at Lavender's defeat, hurriedly turning it into an odd sort of strangled cough as the young woman in question shot him a killer look. He gulped when she turned away and let the only half chewed food travel slowly and uncomfortably down his throat. When he could no longer feel it, he twisted his neck in an effort to rid himself of the rest of the unpleasant feeling, and flinched in pain as he moved his wound by accident. Seeing Hermione's expression, he quickly changed what would have been tedious to a more welcome subject.

"What do you reckon she's going to be like as a teacher?"

"She seems confident enough to me to control a class." She bit into her potato and politely finished it before continuing: "Why, what do you think?"

"When I met her another time, she wasn't like that at all. It was like she'd become someone else entirely. Maybe she's not up to sixth years."

"Relax, Harry. If it's any consolation - I don't think she could possibly be as bad as last year's. Eh?"

Harry shivered as he remembered the disgustingly pink office of the previous year's Defence teacher. "Yeah, you're right."

"Well anyway. It's about time we were going. Coming Ron?" She asked purposefully interrupting Ron's discussion with Lavender.

The three of them hurried up the staircases along with a few fellow stragglers to Defence Against the Dark arts. Filing into the rows of separate desks, the students took the opportunity to chatter since their teacher was absent. From what Harry could hear, most of the boys were particularly excited about this lesson.

"Er…hello class." Suki Synthra descended the spiral staircase down from her office and stood on the platform at the front of the class hesitantly. She smiled awkwardly.

"Would you mind telling me your names? I'm Miss Suki Synthra. But you may call me what you like."

Hermione winced. The first rule of teaching was to distinguish yourself, and add some discipline by at least insisting upon the modes of address.

"I can think of a lot of things I'd like to call you!" Someone shouted out to the raucous jeers and whoops from round the class. The woman flushed deeply and looked at the floor.

"I'm Harry Potter." He offered, hoping to throw her a lifeline. He got a thankful look in return, and Hermione and Ron followed suit, effectively calming the rest of the class and starting of the chain of introductions. Some way through the class, a knock at the door silenced Neville halfway through his first name. Professor Dumbledore poked his head round the old oak entrance.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt. I would like to borrow Harry for a minute, if that's possible? And I also have a late addition to your class, Miss Synthra." He ushered Malfoy into the room who paled as he passed Harry on the way to his seat. Miss Synthra nodded her consent and Harry heard Neville retry his name as he followed Dumbledore out of the room.

* * *

Harry followed the headmaster up the spiral stairs and into the large, spacious office where he was offered a seat and a sherbert lemon. Accepting both, he folded his hands in his lap and waited for the Headmaster to begin. A deep sigh met his ears as Dumbledore sat down.

"Harry, I have brought you here to apologize: I want you to understand that I never would have sent you into the Room of Requirement if I had known that Draco would have had such a violent transformation. Such an event was unprecedented as his bite was interrupted - it effectively makes him extremely unstable in comparison to most other vampires. Unfortunately I only received this information after the event. Regrettably, it is unlikely that Draco will survive the next few months one way or another. Of course, I no longer expect you to feel any responsibility towards him; I shall someone who can help Miss Synthra and Mr. Sabarra. I can assure you that we will do our very best to ensure that young Mr Malfoy has the best chance possible. Thank you for your help. And Harry?"

Sensing the end of the conversation, the young man had headed towards the door. He turned to face the tired form of his headmaster.

"I really am…so very sorry." Harry forced a smile, and turned once again to exit.

* * *

It was a cold, emotionally numb Harry that sat down at his desk and stared straight ahead - conflicting emotions surging around his head like a hundred charging bulls. The world outside his thoughts was muffled by the uproar of his emotions, and his eyes were blind to the chaos ensuing around the room.

A dozen miniature Thestrals had been let loose around the room and had sent the students into uproar. To some, the creatures were invisible and so their terrified shrieks and howls could be heard at varying degrees of volume. Those who could see them were chasing them around the room with nets and sending the other students, and in some cases, tables and desks flying. The teacher vainly attempted to bring the class to order with a few yells, and Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were calmly rounding the shrunken animals up with an odd grace and easiness.

Harry watched Malfoy as he weaved lazily through the desks, sending thin beams of white light shooting from the end of his wand to aid his Sire. It was odd to think that Malfoy wouldn't be around much longer when he remembered all the years they had spent fighting. Hogwarts really wouldn't be the same without him. Having a rival, an enemy who wasn't as dark as his nemesis, Voldemort had almost made his life seem normal, and no matter the circumstances, Malfoy was one of the few people who had always treated him the same, rain or shine. Granted, it was badly, but still normally was something Harry craved in his life.

Yet now he had been freed from the responsibilities of Malfoy, and there was naught he could do besides watch the blonde waste away in his efforts to defeat the growing beast inside. It saddened the boy to recall that Draco had been abandoned by his family, and despite his hatred for him, Harry felt pity for the platinum-haired teen would soon not be around. No one deserved to die. He smiled wistfully as he recalled a time when he would have thought Malfoy was one of the people who came pretty close to deserving it - but Harry had grown up.

He glanced out of the window at the ark clouds and watched the droplets link and slide down the window pane, still oblivious to the anarchy surrounding him. He rubbed his aching neck absent-mindedly. At that moment, a small Thestral was catapulted towards him by a beam of light, and Harry was knocked from his chair as a squealing, skeletal horse slammed into his chest. So rudely roused from his reverie, he didn't have enough time to seize the creature as it quickly recovered and flapped away and out of reach. The brunette clambered to his feet and glared in the direction in which the Thestral had come from. Draco Malfoy stood, smiling mischievously.

"Whoops. Sorry Potter," He sneered. With the sudden surge of anger, Harry was brought back to the real world where Malfoy was nothing but a stuck-up, sniveling brat.

"Oh yeah," Harry thought. "I hate him."

* * *

"So what you're saying is we don't need to worry about him any more?" Ron asked hopefully. Harry nodded, smiling slightly as Ron's cheers echoed off of the trees near the lake. Hermione had stayed quiet throughout the whole of Harry's recount of the events that had transpired in Dumbledore's office.

"Hermione?"

"What? Oh-um. I just. Hm. I don't think it seems fair that we just abandon him."

"I thought that too Hermione, but he's fine on his own. He's still the same arrogant bastard as always."

"Yeah, Harry's right." Ron chorused. "He didn't exactly relish our help."

Hermione gave in with a shrug. "Anyway. I have to go, I'll see you two in the common room later." She scooped up her books and headed up the lawn towards the castle.

"That girl and her bloody library. Still, Harry she's got the right idea going indoors. It's still wet out here and I'm freezing my-"

"Yeah, alright, thanks Ron." Harry cut him off. "You're right. Since we're done talking about Malfoy I reckon it's safe to go inside out of the wet. You reckon we're ok though? We are sort of abandoning him."

"Harry, don't be an idiot. You guys have hated each other for years, I really think he'd prefer someone else's help either way. It's turned out well for both of you. Quit acting like you actually wanted to help." Ron joked, nudging Harry and succeeding in brightening the mood.

Harry chuckled and gratefully stood up to follow Ron out of the drizzle. Once inside, the two cast drying spells before pressing on. "Hey Ron? D'you reckon we could stop off at the house-elves place? I haven't seen Dobby for a bit."

"Yeah, alright. I'm actually kind of hungry."

They made their way through the maze of halls and corridors until they reached the kitchens. Tickling the pear, they walked inside, and were immediately set upon by dozens of eager house elves thrusting platters of various delicious meals into their faces, many of which Ron hastily accepted. Harry left his friend to it and struggled through the streams of house elves, politely declining over twenty offers of food and drink made by small elves, gangly elves, ugly elves, slightly less ugly elves until finally:

"Harry Potter!"

He grinned as Dobby launched himself at Harry's shin, wrapping spindly arms round it and gazing adoringly up into the eyes of his favourite human.

"You has come to pay Dobby a visit? Oh, Dobby is the happiest elf in the whole of Hogwarts Harry Potter sir!"

"Hey, Dobby. It's nice to see you, too," He crouched down so he didn't tower over the elf quite so much, and looked him squarely in his tennis-ball-sized eyes. "Listen,

Dobby, could you do me a favour?"

"Anything for you, Harry Potter sir!"

"Could you conjure up some, er, blood?"

"What for Harry Potter?"

"I ah. Need it for someone. Can you do it?"

"Oh, Harry Potter is so kind to other peoples! Dobby already has Harry Potter, sir, come see!" Still clutching Harry's jeans, the elf tugged him into a back room and pointed proudly at a giant cauldron full to the brim of slightly steaming scarlet liquid. He let go and gestured towards the vast iron container.

"Harry Potter wants blood to give to Mister Malfoy, isn't that right Harry Potter sir? Harry Potter has a kind heart indeed! Someone has already asked if Dobby make it for Mister Malfoy so he can get better!"

"Oh, right. Well that's alright then." At a bit of a loss as to what he should do next, Harry glanced around the room at several paintings, bottles and jars before Dobby said:

"Oh! Mister Potter, Mister Potter what would you like Dobby to get you for Christmas, Harry Potter sir?"

"Er…I don't need anything really. Whatever you want to get me is fine, er, do you want anything?"

"Oh! Oh! Harry Potter is getting a Christmas present for Dobby?!" The elf squealed with joy and reattached himself to Harry's leg. "Anything from you, Harry Potter sir will be Dobby's favourite gift!" Harry smiled and patted Dobby awkwardly, and waited for the house elf to let go before exiting the room. He found Ron in a state of chubby bliss by the entrance, food crumbs all down his shirt and unsightly stains marking it.

"Thanks Dobby, I'll se you soon," Harry waved, thanked the rest of the house elves and half carried Ron out of the room.

"Harry, mate we have to go in there more often," Ron said.

Harry chuckled while somehow managing to struggle up all the staircases and through the portrait hole to the common room, his mind at rest. His slight chuckle rose to a full laugh as he saw Hermione's disgusted face when she saw Ron struggle across to his chair and settle into a blissful, food induced trance by the fire. After a while, Hermione hurried out of the common room, and as the portrait of the fat lady swung shut, the two boys headed up to their dormitory for a good nights sleep. Apart from Neville's snores, all was quiet.

* * *

**Sorry it took so long :) hope you enjoyed it**

**Once again, many thanks to my understanding Beta reader, Aki Vos ^^**

**Yana5: You're very welcome ^^**

**Nikotehfox: Yup! Draco's very special. And I just had to put the cuddle chemical thing in there- makes him seem less scary :D**

**Hyper Hippie: How did your exams go? And yes, these next couple of chapters are almost completely centred around the two and their plotline. :D just for you! **

**Ninny-na: Why thankyou ^^**

**kura-wolfgoddess: wow! Thankyou so much :) it's comments like yours that make my day**

**wendy90210: Movie? Aha I don't know about that, but I've taken a break from my other projects to focus on this one awhile :)**

**jamii-lynn: Hope this keeps you happy :)**

**haiylighGIRL: Sorry for the long wait! I bet you thought I'd died ^^**

**masks: No, no connection. Only connection is Draco chucking up because of his digust at his own actions :D yay! And three moons - I'd be hard pressed to fit the whole storyline I've got planned into three days. Whew! Yeah, I thought Harry's a bit angsty at times, but it's just an outlet for the pressure he's feeling. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13: The match

Sixth year without having to worry about Malfoy was a pleasant experience indeed for Harry, who enjoyed the atmosphere of the school more than usual over the next couple of days. That was, until he remembered what was to take place on Saturday - the first Quidditch match with Malfoy as the Gryffindor seeker. Thousands of terrible possibilities flashed through his mind of what the blond could do to sabotage the match, sending Gryffindor plummeting to the bottom on the points list. Slytherin was already in front of them by over a hundred points - losing to Ravenclaw a few times would be more than enough to ensure that the Quidditch cup was out of the question for Gryffindor that year.

The worst part was not knowing. Harry's brain, ever helpful, conjured up theory upon theory of how Malfoy could ruin their chances, and each idea was worse than the one before it. One even involved Wrackspurts.

When the time came to trudge down to the pitches, Hermione was at his side and attempting to take his mind off of it.

"Hermione, I appreciate it and all, but I can't really forget about the whole Malfoy-seeker business if we're going to watch it, can I?"

"Yeah Harry, sorry. Maybe it would be better if you didn't see the match after all? I'm pretty sure Malfoy will have some nasty scheme planned out- it might be best if you weren't there to see it?"

The brunette shook his tousled hair, a determined expression sweeping across his features. "No. I'm being stupid about this whole thing. Besides, I need to cheer Ron on, don't I?"

She smiled without conviction, and so they headed on in silence amongst some other nervous Gryffindors, until Seamus Finnigan and some other sixth years jogged up to them.

"Hey Hermione, hey Harry. Listen, mate. Bummer about the whole Malfoy seeker thing, eh? That nasty little blond shite is gonna stir things up for this year, that's for certain."

"Seamus!" Lavender squealed from his right at the foul language.

"What? We all know it's true. It's just a pity that the bastard tricked his way in. Still, Angelina will be ale to kick him out after this. We'll see you back on that broom in a jiffy, right Harry?"

Harry smiled his thanks and nodded.

"Seamus is right, Harry you'll be back before you know it. C'mon or we'll miss the best seats!" Dean Thomas said, ushering them foreword.

"Lavender, why are you here? I thought you had that meeting with Professor Synthra now?" She asked icily.

"Pfft. That can wait. Ronnie's playing today; I can't miss that can I?" She smiled sweetly at Hermione, who looked fit to kill.

After pushing through a few crowds, the group managed to get seats in the front row. Fortunately, it was a mild day without much wind, so it was perfect viewing conditions, and not too cold. Unfortunately, that meant it was perfect conditions for flying.

Harry's expression turned sour as everyone settled into their seats. Not for a long time had he wanted to be in the air so much, he was so high up he could smell the air, feel the exhilaration of the height, and hear the vibrant crowd. He was now part of that crowd.

Jealousy burned in him as he watched the Ravenclaw players walk onto the pitch to the roar of the crowd in the blue section of the stands, and it raged when the Gryffindors around him stood up to cheer on the tiny red players that marched solemnly onto the grass. It was bad enough when he saw red hair, but blonde sent him almost wild with rage. He could almost see Malfoy's smug smirk at Harry's defeat- something was going to happen in this match, and Harry was powerless to stop it.

He managed to draw himself together as the snitch was released. His trained eyes honed in on it as it flittered around, and he found some comfort in the thought that it would be difficult to catch - it seemed to easily blend in with the background.

The whistle was blown, and the tiny people kicked off. Harry could almost feel the surge of excitement as his stomach lurched up with them, and hungry eyes watched their brooms responded to the slightest touch and whim, and he longed for his Firebolt. Ron swooped round the Gryffindor goal posts, only a few dozen metres to their right. Some watched the chasers skilfully passing the Quaffle, others laughed at the antics of the beaters, but most were closely watching the seekers: the deciders of the game. Cho Chang - the Ravenclaw seeker looked extremely nervous, Malfoy was relaxed. He swooped round the goalposts lazily eyeing the Quaffle whenever it came near him.

Harry was beginning to become less worried. It was painfully obvious that Malfoy was simply letting Cho win and therefore sabotaging the game. Even though it meant that Gryffindor would lose the game, it also meant that he'd be back in the broom before too long. Malfoy really needed to have thought this out more. All around him he Gryffindors were in uproar : their suspicions about Malfoy were becoming proven. He was sabotaging the match.

Harry gasped as the tiny winged ball seemed to appear from nowhere, and it fluttered just out of his reach. Walnut-sized, golden and inviting, it was all Harry could do to stop himself jumping out of the stands just to feel its metal wings beating uselessly against the sides of his hands. His eyes took in every nook and cranny of the ball, with its beautifully carved exterior, gleaming finish and hummingbird-like enchanted wings to give it the energy to flitter around so mischievously. It truly was a wonderful object. But after a brief moment, it was gone, and Harry's trance ended very suddenly as a flurry of green flashed past, sending the front rows of people in the stands staggering backwards in its wake.

He gaped as Malfoy pursued the snitch with dexterity and grace. He followed the path of the object so precisely he didn't seem to be separate from it at all, more like an extension of the snitch itself. Whilst mirroring the ball so well, he was catching up to it, inching closer with every passing second, and Harry stared as the blonde soared past him once more with flashing silver eyes. He weaved, ducked, circled, dived and dodged like a professional player and all the while he drew ever closer to the snitch.

The Gryffindors around Harry were completely quiet, even when the young blond's gloved hand seized the snitch way ahead of his female rival. It took a few seconds of stunned silence before the crowd erupted in applause and cheers, even from the Hufflepuff and Slytherin areas of the stadium. Rarely was such a performance seen in Hogwarts, and it quashed any doubts that the students had about Draco.

Harry's heart sank, and Hermione stopped cheering to pat him on the shoulder and lead him out of the stadium, just in time to hear the announcer:

"Gryffindor wins two hundred and forty points to ninety! A spectacular catch from the Gryffindor seeker there, I must say-"

Hermione blocked out the sound with a flick of her wand as they headed up towards the castle. "Ron will be furious. I'm not sure which he would hate more: Gryffindor winning because of Malfoy, or Gryffindor losing because of Malfoy!" For the second time that day, she smiled half-heartedly and gave up entirely upon seeing her friend's expression. "Look, Harry if it's any consolation, it's not Malfoy that's better than you, it's his abilities now he's a vampire that make him good at Quidditch. He has an unfair advantage!"

"Yeah. Hermione, I'm sorry but I think I'm going to go to the dorm for a bit, ok? Thanks for trying."

"Alright. I need to be somewhere, anyway. Hoppe you feel better later."

He sloped up the steps towards Gryffindor tower, preparing himself for the raucous merriment that would be going on in the room in just a few hours once the sun had set. He wasn't sure he wanted to attend this Gryffindor victory party.

* * *

Evening had long since set in, and Harry was sitting by the fire to keep out of the way of the swarms of people gathered in the common room. Hermione was sitting with him looking far away and thoughtful whereas Ron was somewhere in the middle of the crowd, being repeatedly congratulated by members of his house on either his own playing, or that of his team. Just when Harry thought he'd punch someone if they mentioned Draco Malfoy one more time, Ron fought his way through the crowd and flopped down onto the settee nearest Harry. Almost immediately after, Hermione muttered something and left, hurrying towards the portrait hole with Ron looking after her.

"She's been doing that all week, wandering off. Wonder what she's up to." Ron thought out loud before taking a deep swig of butterbeer. Harry shrugged, hoping it would seem like he shared Ron's clueless-ness.

For a long time he had thought that there were things happening between his best friends, and what he found obvious was invisible to the two whom it concerned most. Recently, Ron's growing affections for a certain Lavender Brown were becoming more and more pronounced. Whether or not Hermione knew that the feelings inside her were that of jealously, Harry didn't know, though he doubted it. But it was clear that they were taking their toll on Hermione who was spending the majority of her time away from Ron and himself.

This had been happening for a few days, and Harry was wondering if he should do anything about it, as it was almost certain Ron wouldn't. Having the suspicion that Hermione would want to talk to someone about it, he told Ron he was off to find her and clambered out of the portrait hole feeling relieved when the blissful silence greeted his ears. Although it was a party night, it was coming close to eleven, which was the time in which all students were forbidden from being outside their common rooms. It was extremely unlike Hermione to be out this late, unless she had fallen asleep in the library. It wouldn't be the first time.

He made his way along the corridor, past paintings and down moving staircases. Finding he'd gone the wrong way, he simply ambled around until he found the library - finding your way around Hogwarts sometimes was simply luck.

Finding the library closed he furrowed his brow and continued, mapping out points in his head in which Hermione was known to have been in on other occasions on which he was looking for her, and planning a route accordingly. He was dismayed to find no one along the vast network of corridors, and so he began to think she had missed him on his way here and was most likely to have wandered back to the common room by now. Sadly, however, despite his perfectly planned route he had taken a wrong turning and now had no idea where he was. So he headed off along a corridor he quite possibly had never been along in all his years at Hogwarts. And then-

"What makes you think you can help me, Mudblood?"

Harry froze. Draco Malfoy's voice echoed round the corner, and the last word he spoke gave Harry no doubts as to whom was he speaking to. He only became more confident in his educated guess when he heard the reply.

"I just know about this type of situation. It's not just book information either, but if you're going to be a prick about this then I- oomph!" Alarmed at the thud, Harry peered round the corner, wand at the ready to cast a few hexes should Hermione require his help. But what he saw made him simply blush.

Malfoy's back was to him, and Hermione was mostly obscured by his frame. He had pinned her to the wall with his torso and was holding her wrists on either side of her with pale, slender fingers. Shocked and embarrassed to have witnessed such an event, Harry stumbled away, heart beating fast in his ribcage and the blood still not leaving his face. Only when he reached the common room and was consumed by the noise could he bring himself to think about what he had just seen transpire. Was Hermione actually kissing Draco Malfoy? It couldn't be true.

Staring into the fire with a haunted expression, once again Ron came over to him and sat on the setee by the blazing fireplace.

"Well? Was she o.k?"

"Er…"Harry was at a loss for words. Sensing something was wrong, Ron presed him for information.

"Harry? Are you alright? What's wrong, what happened?"

"Uhm. Nothing, Ron. I'll…er…I'll talk to you in the morning. Night."

Still reeling from the shock, Harry tottered upstairs to bed, his mind slightly numb.

* * *

Breakfast the next day was not an enjoyable experience. Harry did his best to pick a time in which Hermione would not come down at the same time, but lo and behold, she appeared mid way through his breakfast, making him choke on his porridge.

"Morning Ron, morning Harry. How're you feeling?"

Gulping down some food hastily, he replied through half a piece of toast. "Goob 'anks 'Mione. Oo?"

"I'm fine thanks Harry. Is something the matter, or are you simply a little more hungry than usual?"

The brunette knocked back his pumpkin juice and shook his head. Not a good combination. "Whoops!" He said in an oddly jolly tone. "Better go wash that off!"

"Come here," said Hermione, casting a cleaning spell on his shirt to rid it of the orange stain.

"Thanks. See you guys later!" He rushed out of the room, fighting the guilty blush that was attempting to creep onto his features. Once in the entrance hall, he breathed a sigh of relief to be out of her company, until -

"Potter."

The blush won. Harry opened his emerald eyes to look straight into the stormy grey irises of Draco Malfoy, who was looking very cheery. The red became maroon.

"Goodness Potter. Looking worse than usual? I didn't think that was possible. You know, you look rather like a constipated owl when your face is like that." Malfoy walked past Potter, but stopped a few inches from him as the brunette took a swig of conjured liquid to cool down his face.

"Didn't have good evening, did you? Well, at least you know I enjoyed myself at any rate."

The water exited Harry's lips at a ferocious pace and the odd sound of spluttering echoed off of the towering ceiling.

"W-what do you mean by that?"

"Don't be foolish Potter, I can smell you a mile off."

Harry turned to face Malfoy, who went over to lean against a pillar nonchalantly.

"You knew I was there? Then why did you carry on?"

Malfoy shrugged, but then smirked nastily. "Because I knew you were there, and I wanted to see what you'd do."

He looked vaguely surprised when Harry's fist collided with his face, and it wasn't until a few seconds later did he choose to retaliate. But he chose words, not fists nor magic.

"Well. Be a kind soul and let her know you saw? I think she'd prefer it that way. Moreover, you look rather stupid with a beetroot complexion." Astonished at how feeble his insult was, he decided to try again. He looked Harry squarely in the face and said:

"Run along to your Mudblood friend, then."

Harry clenched his fist again, all the anger and rage that had been building up in him over the past few days boiling over and spilling forth from him in waves. However before he could act, the blonde disappeared, then reappeared by his side in a flash, holding the clenched fist in an icy, stone grip.

"Don't bother, Potter." He released Harry's fist and walked away, leaving Harry to stand alone in the entrance hall, with only his furious ragged breaths as sound.

* * *

Harry knew that sooner or later he would have to tell her he knew - he just had hoped that it wouldn't have been this soon. She had taken him aside that lunchtime and asked him why he was avoiding her. He took a deep breath, and glanced everywhere but at her.

"I saw you and Malfoy last night. I'm sorry."

She looked a little surprised, but his blush was back in full force.

"What of it?"

"I just thought it might be awkward, y'know?"

"I don't see why it should be. I think you've noticed that I've been acting oddly since

the start of term."

"Start of term?" He gasped. "How long has this been going on for?"

"Well, since the summer holidays. I thought you noticed I was a little distracted since I came back."

"You….you haven't done anything with him, have you?"

"What do you mean? We mainly just take walks, and obviously I'm there for him whenever he needs me, and we owl a lot. Oh, and obviously I try to be there when he transforms, but I can't always, right?"

"Er. Right. Ok, thanks Hermione. Sorry….again. Should I let Ron know?"

"I don't see why not. See you later, Harry."

That was probably the most shocking news he had ever heard. This even topped finding Grawp in the forest. But the worst part was that she was so calm about it. Was it just revenge for Ron flirting with Lavender? No, Hermione wouldn't take it this far. But she had to be somewhat out of her mind if she was dating Malfoy. Didn't she?

Oh Merlin. He was going to have to tell Ron.


	14. Chapter 14: Enraged

**_Reminder: All reviews are answered at the bottom!_**

WHAT?" Ron bellowed. "WHAT?"

Harry sighed deeply. He had known the redhead would act like this. That's why he had been smart enough to get his friend well out of the earshot of anyone else.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE'S DATING THAT SLIMEBALL!!"

"Calm down Ron, you-"

"I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"

By now, Ron's ears had tuned such a shade of maroon that it was a wonder they didn't explode. Harry couldn't help but be impressed. But still he blocked Ron's way and endeavoured to calm him down a little, therefore he was thankful when he watched the young man take a deep breath, and close his eyes. "It's alright, Harry. I'm not going to do anything stupid." Seeing the wizard was finally calmer, he stepped out of the way and let Ron through the door. However, as soon as he was out, Ron raced off down the corridor, screaming obscenities that put Peeves to shame.

Unfortunately for Hermione, the Gryffindor common room was full of people when Ron went careering in through the portrait hole with a breathless Harry stumbling in behind him.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" Ron roared at the girl sitting by the fire, who had been calmly reading a book until one of her best friends smashed through the entrance and had shattered the, frankly rare, silence.

"What've I done now, Ron?" She asked politely, fully prepared to be civil.

"You know very well what you've done!! How could you go out with him after all the evil, snotty little remarks, the tricks and everything he's done to all of us?"

"Calm down, Ron I have no-"

"Malfoy!"

"What? Ron, what are you talking about?"

Harry was horribly aware of the spectators to this argument, and tried to alert his friends to the whispers that were slowly increasing in volume around the room.

"Guys…" he pleaded.

"YOU! You're fucking going out with the bastard who called you that ….that _word_, the one who's dad nearly killed my sister! How could you-"

"Ron!" It was Hermione's turn to get angry. She sprung out of her chair and slammed her book down on a nearby table, not bothering to cast reparo when the glass cracked a little.

"I don't know what ridiculous stories you've heard, but _how dare you _accuse me of something before even bothering to ask for the truth?"

"Harry fucking told me! Not such a ridiculous story now, is it?"

Hermione's hair seemed to frizzle with her anger as she turned on Harry.

"What have you told this idiot?" She hissed, gesturing towards Ron who also was looking questioningly at Harry, as was most of the room.

"You said I should tell him, 'Mione. Earlier, by the fire - don't you remember?"

"I-oh! Oh, Harry you idiot!" Hermione flung her hands up in the air in exasperation. "How on earth could you think I'd be interested in that stuck-up git? You moron, Harry honestly, have you no trust in me? Don't you think I would have told my best friends? And as for you!"

Ron gulped, his anger giving way to fear at the look on his friend's features. "How dare you just accuse me of something like this? Ronald Weasley, I should-"

For the first time, she seemed to become aware of the hordes of people in the room, and she fell silent. Her calculating eyes roamed the faces all turned towards her, and letting out a muffled squeak she gathered up her books and ran out of the portrait hole, wiping her eyes fiercely.

After a few moments' awkward silence, Dean Thomas whacked Ron over the back of the head with a rather heavy tome. "Twat."

　

* * *

The next few days were spent offering grovelling apologies to Hermione who met them with silence. Silence over breakfast, silence throughout lunch, silence whenever a word was sent her way from either of the pair. Not only that but she avoided them in the corridors, holding her head high above the whispers that followed her like shadows.

Harry considered the worst part to be Malfoy's trickery. He hadn't seen him since the incident in the entrance hall but hatred burned within him as hot as the jealousy that blazed every time he caught a glimpse of Gryffindors celebrating their victory.

Potions was the first time all of them were in one room. Thankfully, it was only for an hour yet the tension in the dungeon was enough to keep a horrible hush throughout the first half of the lesson. Snape rather enjoyed it, and took the opportunity to set more homework than usual.

The second half, however, was very different. Hermione busied herself with work for the most part, nevertheless the entire class watched when she turned from the store cupboard and met Malfoy's taunting gaze. He innocently blew her a kiss, causing her eyes to flash angrily. Everyone could see the joy it was bringing the blond to know that he had succeeded in breaking up the trio, and the gleeful look on his face was near frightening.

"Oi. That's enough, Malfoy," Harry growled after he had witnessed the exchange between them.

"Thank you Harry, but I can deal with it by myself," She glared and strode past him, holding her head high before continuing with her potion. Draco Malfoy simply stood surveying the chaos and upset he had caused between the Gryffindors and sighed happily. Pansy Parkinson was vindictive enough to giggle and whisper with some other, equally cruel Slytherins that pointed to Hermione and tittered, making the bushy haired female flush angrily. Ron and Harry looked on, helpless.

"How are they making it this bad? Everyone knows it's not true!" Said Ron to Harry in a hushed whisper.

"Because girls are clever and cruel. And jealous." Padma Patil offered, nipping over to their table to steal some wolfs bane from Harry's cutting board.

"Well can't you help her out then, if you know what they're doing?"

"Oh, no. You can't get involved. Hermione's got to sort this one out for herself." Lavender whispered.

"Why? Isn't that as cruel as what Pansy's doing?" Ron said.

Lavender shrugged. "She shouldn't have slept with Malfoy then, should she?"

"She didn't! That's the point, you idiot! Where the fuck did you hear that from?" Ron snapped, taken aback.

"Hey, don't take this out on me!"

From the other side of the classroom, Hermione looked a little cheered as she snuck glimpses at the argument between Lavender and Ron.

* * *

Defence Against the Dark Arts was the oddest subject of the day. Despite having to examine caged Thestrals this time, Miss Synthra still seemed extremely nervous - she kept glancing at the clock and fiddling with her hair, or the hem of her robes, or her paperwork. Many of the boys didn't get much work done, and neither did the girls.

Most of the Slytherin females were all clustered around Hermione like vultures, and since it wasn't pair work Harry and Ron could do little else but watch as Hermione's already rather small ego was ripped apart in front of them. They could see her shaking by halfway through the lesson. But then the unexpected occurred:

"I'm sorry Miss Pansy, but fifty points from Slytherin. I- I never thought I'd hear anyone say something like that about someone of their own house!"

Pansy looked irritated and confused. Sitting in the front row, she furrowed her eyebrows at the teacher. "What? I never said anything of the sort Miss."

Suki waved her wand and Pansy's voice echoed around the room.

"She's so fat I'm surprised she could fit that green tie round her fat neck!"

Pansy looked horrified. "I never!" But it was too late. All of the Slytherin girls turned to glare icily at their former leader, before turning away and continuing with their work in silence, all convinced her cruel insult was directed at them.

Twenty minutes later, no insults or whispers had come Hermione's way, and so she had stopped quivering and was doing her best to look like she had never been bothered.

The time came to leave, and all of the students left, save Hermione who took longer than usual to pack up her books. She calmly waited until all other students had departed, before turning to her teacher.

"Did she really say that?"

Suki smiled. "N-no. Useful trick though, Mrs Hermione. I'm not very good at teaching, but I won't allow bullying in my class." And with that, a cheerful Suki sailed out of the door towards the Great Hall for some (she considered) well deserved ice cream.

* * *

It wasn't long before Harry had decided that enough was enough. He truly hated to see Hermione bullied so - it tore him apart to see his long term friend suffer for something he thought of as his fault. Malfoy was certainly encouraging the rumours. Malfoy was probably the only part of the problem he could help with.

And so at six o'clock that evening, the boy who lived set off to the Slytherin common room.

Travelling to the dungeons was a difficult mental process. Through the dark, chilly stone corridors several elaborate tapestries reminded him of how close he had been to belonging here. It alarmed him to feel how his surroundings altered his mood; the claustrophobic setting caused his eyes to dart about suspiciously and his pace to unconsciously quicken.

Finally he came across a first year Slytherin. The young boy regarded him with disdain, yet his façade of confidence was revealed by slim fingers frantically drumming on the spine of the hardback tucked under his arm. He seemed extremely nervous of Harry, it could be partially due to the fact that he was having to crane his neck to simply look Harry in the eye.

"Hi," Harry said, confidence deserting him. "I - er wondered if you get someone out of the Slytherin common room for me?"

"Why?"

Taken aback by the bluntess of the reply, Harry scratched the back of his head uncertainly and said:

"Well. Er…'cos I need to talk to him."

"Alright," the boy narrowed his hawk-like eyes at the brunette and sighed deeply. The fingers beat a tattoo on the book. "Who do you need?"

"Draco Malfoy?" The drumming stopped, and the hawk became a puppy as the dark eyes widened considerably.

"D-Draco Malfoy? I'd rather not if it's all the same to you. Goodbye!" The first year scurried off, and Harry let a sigh escape his lips.

A good twenty minutes later, Harry managed to grab another young boy, a scrawny young thing with feet that were so large he looked almost comical. There was none of the fakery here - the little wizard looked as though he wanted to be vaporised the second he met Harry's gaze.

"Hi. Would you mind getting Draco Malfoy out of the Slytherin common room for me?"

The boy nodded and scampered off, seeming as scared of Harry as he was at the prospect of talking to the infamous Slytherin prince. Only a few minutes later he reappeared, looking even more frightened and anxious.

"Sorry. He's not in." The boy turned to leave, but Harry called him back.

"Do you know where I might find him?"

The boy gabbled out directions, which Harry scribbled down with his wand in the air. The fiery letters remained there long after the child had bolted off down the corridor and disappeared into the darkness. Harry examined them carefully, just as he heard the hurried footsteps of the schoolboy come to an abrupt halt, and a deep thud, an 'oomph' and an irritated snarl.

"Get out of the way, you idiot."

Draco Malfoy wheeled around the corner and strode out of the darkness as he adjusted his cufflinks and run pale slender hands through his hair. He seemed not to notice Harry as he passed the brunette who stood formlessly in the link between parallel corridors. The Adonis simply carried on his way as he muttered obscenities to himself. As he disappeared out of sight, Harry was jolted from his surprised trance and shook himself from top to toe and jogged off to follow Malfoy down the corridor.

He had decided by the fourth corridor that he didn't particularly like the sound of his own footsteps echoing back, and he wasn't too fond of the way the enchanted torches cast eerie glows around the dungeons.

So when he turned a corner and saw Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall about three inches in front of him, the terrible leap of surprise his heart performed in his ribcage convinced him that the dungeons really weren't the place for him.

The blonde blew a strand of hair out of his face in an irritated fashion and adjusted his arm into a more comfortable position on the wall.

"Potter, I'm really not in the mood to do this right now, so why don't you just be a good boy and fuck off?" And with that, he whipped round and continued on his way, looking freakishly like Snape as his cloak billowed out behind him. However Harry was not done yet, so he clicked his tongue and continued to follow Malfoy along the disturbing lattice of ancient tunnels. It was no easy task - Malfoy was quick on his feet and seemed to flicker in and out of existence as he paced the halls.

Eventually the tunnels became grander and better lit, and soon enough the scene became akin to that of the Slytherin common room: chandeliers, intricately designed carpets and richly upholstered armchairs. Harry stumbled into a large, high-ceilinged hall that had several imposing black doors imbedded in its walls. Draco was marching up to the one that proudly bore the Malfoy crest, and so Harry sprinted up a few small steps and wedged his foot in the door just as the blonde tried to slam it in his spectacled face.

"Potter, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"How many times have you got to act like a complete prick for no reason?"

Malfoy growled in frustration, and marched off into his room, followed by Harry as the pressure on the other side of the door disappeared, so he crashed onto the floor in an ungraceful heap.

Malfoy wasn't his usual poised self either as he tipped some red wine into a sparkling glass and downed it in a few desperate gulps. After he had slammed the crystal back down he stood stock still and breathed deeply before regaining his composure slightly and rolling his neck.

"Potter, I don't think you understand what I mean when I say I'm not in the mood for this."

"I'm not too bothered whether you're in the mood, Malfoy. What matters is what you're going to do about Hermione."

Draco smirked, swirling the wine round his glass as he surveyed Harry with icy eyes. It wasn't until the teen smelt a metallic tang in the air he realised that whatever Malfoy was drinking, it wasn't wine.

Harry sniffed. "What's that?"

Malfoy didn't reply. He simply quirked his eyebrow and took another sip of the liquid, delighting in the expression of horror that adorned Harry's suddenly pale features.

"I think Potty understands now," he said calmly, before leaning forwards and stared straight into Harry's eyes. "Fuck off."

Once again, age old instincts roared into life behind Harry's courage. His heartbeat quickened yet he remained unruffled. He simply said.

"Alright. Not now. But don't be naïve enough to think I'll forget about it just because ickle Draco's feeling a little under the weather." Harry paused, astonished that he had been so insensitive, and glanced warily back at Draco from his place at the door.

The Slytherin Prince looked somewhat surprised. But then he raised his eyebrows and twitched his bottom lip the way one would when accepting defeat from a well executed move. "Congratulations, Potter," the blond said, downing the blood. "It seems you've finally grown some balls."

Harry rolled his eyes and left the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Not his best move.

He was barely halfway down the steps when the figure of Malfoy reappeared at his door, devilish smile on his lips and eyes the colour of blood.

* * *

**Thanks again to my beta, Aki Vos ^^**

**Yana5: All will be revealed about that event in the next chapter :) hope you enjoyed this one**

**: ****1. This story is HPDM. It says so in the blurb :) ****2. Information on that and her cold demeanour will be revealed in the next few chapters, no worries ^^**

**DesertRoseFallen: Yeah I worried that might happen. Hermione's been wierd in this one, but hopefully you'll warm to her in the next few chapters.**

**haiylighGIRL: I'm doing my best :)**

**followthedarke: Haha funnily enough I'd just finished writing this chapter when I read your review! Hope you enjoyed Ron's scene**

**Nikotehfox: Hmm. That's an interesting question, but no sadly. I think three vampires are a handful already ^^**


	15. Chapter 15: First Feed

The animal let out a dreadful screech and catapulted itself across the hall. In an instant, Harry had drawn his wand and fired off a few shield charms, speedily but warily; unsure of the strength necessary. It was a difficult thing to call - too low intensity could put him at risk, too high could hurt Malfoy.

Though, the form of Draco didn't look particularly vulnerable as it swept across the floor, jaws stretching to reveal chillingly sharp canines. Harry backed himself into a position in which he could flee or attack. He positioned his foot against the wall for stability, and watched as the vampire fought Draco for control of his own body. It screeched and moaned and just for a second, silver regained their hold over red and the desperate face of Malfoy returned just as one of Harry's curses hit him square in the chest and flung him against his own door. A crack resounded through the hall, and Draco moaned and let his head fall forwards. As soon as Harry surged forwards, the limp form suddenly re-animated and jerked into a kneel, its back clicking in a gruesome fashion, and a resounding yell exploding forth from white lips. The young man cradled his head in his hands until Harry came and knelt beside him with eyes full of confusion and concern.

Another shriek and a flash of a lithe limb and Harry was kicked down the stone steps, his elbow experiencing a brief but painful contact with the corner of one, while his face smacked into the paving at the bottom, splitting his lip and making his eyebrow ache horribly. He got up as fast as he could, a flurry of scrabbling limbs. He was suspicious when he saw the vampire completely still on the pavement, not even breathing. For a horrible moment the lamps seemed to flicker slower than usual, plunging the room into temporary darkness. When they relit, maroon eyes bored into his own and a hot liquid dribbled down his chin from the cut of his lip. His hand flew to the cut, and he ran.

Sprinting off down the corridor would endanger the rest of the students so Harry thought on his feet and travelled around the side of the hall, casting several defensive spells around him and sending a dozen immobilising curses towards the vampire who had slid down the steps and was waiting at the entrance.

"Confundus!" Harry cried, hitting Malfoy's body on the arm and sending it sprawling backwards. The brunette took his chance and sprinted towards the open door, taking refuge in Malfoy's room. He could see it coming towards him through the flimsy door he hadn't bothered to shut, the beast gathering itself before hastening towards him, locking eyes with him: the prey.

Twenty feet.

Harry hastily muttered defensive spells.

Fifteen feet.

The wards sprung into life in front of him.

Ten feet.

Curses flew from Harry's wand.

Eight feet. It was at the door.

Harry cast a few Flipendo curses in quick succession, trying to buy himself time. The spells bounced off harmlessly.

Four feet. One last spell to try.

The thing leered horribly as is crept across the floor, but flinched as a white stag galloped through its stomach soundlessly, gliding through and across to the other side of the room to making a swift exit through the door. The vampire considered the retreating form for a brief moment, then turned its full attention back to Harry who had set up several new defensive spells around him; taking advantage of the momentary distraction.

The vampire regarded him, seeming to be making a decision. At the moment in which Harry as certain it would strike, Malfoy flickered back into his own body and cried out in pain. The Gryffindor hung back this time despite his every instinct to rush forward to help - he had learned from a very recent experience . He simply watched as Malfoy flung himself towards Harry before veering away and slamming into the wall just a few metres away from the brunette. His silver orbs bored into Harry's as the silver flickered to red and back again, each transition of colour bringing with it fresh screams of agony. Finally, after a few heart-rending moments Harry could bear it no longer as Malfoy resurfaced, panting as he slid down the stone wall. His body shook with the aftermath of the pain and he convulsed with stifled cries as wave after wave of conflicting emotions and sensations overrun his confused brain, forcing him into a fetal position. Harry was about to breach one of his wards when Malfoy, with the last of his strength, conjured iron chains about his wrist that writhed, snakelike for a few moments. They then implanted their ends in the wall before collapsing in on themselves, growing shorter and shorter until the blond's arms were held to the wall by manacles and the wall fixture only. Harry felt a mixture of disgust and horror as he heard the tell tale click of the wizards spine as his arms rose to meet the wall.

Seeing it was safe to move, Harry inched forward - careful not to get too close he whispered: "Malfoy?"

The form groaned in response, letting its head flop down and a curtain of white blond hair obscure his features. It took a few minutes more of horrible transformations to finally ensure Malfoy spat out the words he had been so adamant would not pass his lips.

"Help me." He begged, his head hung in shame and his form contorting in pain as the black poison pulsed through his veins. It made him want to simply curl up and die so he'd finally be done with it. But the Malfoy family seldom took that route. Gasping, he brought his head up to meet Harry's shocked gaze. "Please. I'll do anything."

The male nodded. "My patronus is getting help," Was all he said. His brain couldn't seem to offer more than that, he was still reeling from shock.

The Adonis gritted his pearly teeth as yet another wave of pain overcame him. To Harry's terror dark liquid bubbled forth from his mouth and dribbled repulsively down his white shirt, staining it with vampire's essence. He spluttered in a vain attempt to force the vile liquid from his mouth.

Harry couldn't take it any longer. It was against his nature to simply sit there and watch someone so obviously in pain without taking actions to help them. A few miserable seconds ticked by as Harry gave his cavalry a few moments to turn up - surely they'd be here by now if his patronus had been successful. Another cough, splutter and gargled scream from Malfoy wrenched at his soul and finally broke him. He shuffled forwards on his knees and positioned himself in front of the weak young man, unbuttoning his collar and leaning towards the Slytherin with an air of

determination.

Malfoy's eyes widened in a shock which quickly turned to panic and disgust. "No!" He coughed. The strain to resist showed in his eyes and Harry watched the internal battle between man and vampire taking place in the body before him.

"I'm not giving it away for free." Harry quickly babbled an explanation, a horrible feeling washing over him that if Malfoy didn't accept his offer soon the young male wouldn't be able to resurface again. He could see the blood red rage and hunger burning at the back of the silver eyes and the blond seemed to be becoming weaker by the second. Hermione's words of "the weakest not making it" resurfaced in his brain. He would not have any deaths on his conscience. No more.

"Regardless." Harry was jerked from his thought by the word. Malfoy amazed him sometimes. He was obviously in a great deal of pain yet still able to conjure contempt in his voice.

"Just do it Malfoy!" Harry snarled, his resolve ebbing away and his anger briefly surfacing.

Malfoy's eyes were trained on Harry's neck. It throbbed slightly as the blood coursed through it rich, juicy and full of life. He could smell it, too. The metallic tang hung in the air; a spell refusing to be broken - it held him there paralysing his muscles and stilling him. His own vague heartbeat sped up and slowed down to match the pulse he could see before him. It hypnotised him until he thought he could bear it no longer and every breath resounded in his ears as a deafening symphony. His ears blocked out all else but the breaths of his prey and a muffled heartbeat. It wouldn't take much: a swift lunge or a flick of his hand. He was more than strong enough to overpower and he played out the scene in his head - he would simply do what Harry wanted him to and take a quick, delicious bite. Harry would be fine and- not liking his train of thought, he shook his head roughly. "No." He said uncertainly. "There's nothing I could give you…that would make up…No!"

"Drop the Quidditch team," Harry reasoned. "And I'll let you." Pleased with his sudden inspiration, he examined Draco's eyes as amusement sparkled in them.

"I didn't know it meant that much to you Potter." He said sarcastically chuckling lightly, the pain ebbing away momentarily.

Harry rolled his eyes in frustration. They both knew that such a petty thing was simply Harry's poorly veiled attempt to help him. He backed off a little, seeing that Malfoy wasn't in much pain and retreated into a kneel. As soon as he got somewhat comfortable the Slytherin doubled over, screaming out the pain in a gargled screech filled with dread and hurt. Harry surged forwards and slammed himself into Malfoy, maximising body contact and muttering soothing words out of sheer instinct.

"Malfoy, fucking drink!" He yelled over the cries, desperate to hear them silenced. As Harry wished - so it was. Red overtook and smiled at him. Yet Harry was too alarmed at an odd tingling sensation to notice.

"Fine by me." The thing whispered in agreement to the deal. Then it plunged its fangs into Harry's outstretched neck.

Harry stifled a gasp as vampire anaesthetic shot round his body, numbing the pain and leaving him half limp. Unable to support its prey the vampire screeched in frustration at the manacles, and in the background of that noise Harry's murmured nonsense poured forth from his lips as the pain set in as soon as the anaesthetic quickly wore off and he reached out blindly for the vampire, desperate for the pain to stop. He flung his arms round Malfoy's neck and sighed in relief as the teeth numbed him once more. He settled into the muscled shoulder and relished the sweet sensation of heat and warmth as his life force was sucked from him, leaving Harry in a hazy vampire induced state. He was vaguely aware of himself growing weaker, but his addled brain was more interested in the feeling of warmth and strength growing in the body next to him. Something in him registered that wonderful vanilla smell overcoming him as his entranced muscled edged closer, unable to get near enough. He ignored his throbbing scar and let his mind drift into silence as the beautiful body of Draco Malfoy brought its knees up to pull him closer. Harry let out a blissful sigh as he began to slowly drift away into the darkness.

Yet alarm surged through him when he realised what was happening. His brain kicked back into life, but his body was still entranced and to Harry's horror he could feel himself gradually beginning to die. At that terrifying realisation he forced his emerald eyes open, but his mouth wouldn't move. Harry's thoughts flailed around desperately in his mind, fully awake but confined to a form that wouldn't obey him.

But he had just enough strength to feel once more. Awareness rushed back to him and his heart lifted as the form pressing against him froze and withdrew its fangs. His glassy eyes watched unblinkingly as Draco Malfoy re-emerged, victorious against himself. The now grey eyes blinked a few times in confusion before adjusting to the level of light in the room. Harry watched with a numb satisfaction as a healthy pink tinge returned to the sallow features. But a cowardly whimper escaped him and he doubled over for a second before sighing in relief and leaning back against the wall and stretching, using an impressive piece of wandless magic to summon his wand from his sleeve and release him self from the manacles that had bound his wrists. He took a moment to stare at them in confusion before noticing that his socks were getting wet. Wet with blood.

Slowly, and with a look of horror etched onto his features his head moved towards the limp, glassy eyed form of Harry who looked back at him, cold and seemingly lifeless. A wail sounded from Draco's throat and his eyes widened in horror at the two gaping punctures on Harry's neck. He clapped a hand to his mouth before scrabbling up towards the Gryffindor, cursing under his breath.

"Shit…," he murmured softly.

* * *

Suki Synthra was in the process of peering dejectedly into a mirror in a small store in Hogsmeade when the patronus reached her.

She was inspecting a particularly irritating wisp of hair that stuck up in the wind as she walked. It reminded her of a muggle aerial. It set her off inwardly complaining about all the foibles she could see in her reflection. The enchanted mirror wasn't exactly helping. It was nattering away about the 'simply ghastly weather outside,' and offering the odd treatment for whatever glitch it happened to see in her appearance at random intervals. She glared at the talking mirror frame as it chatted idly about several potions its store stocked that would make her skin positively glow, and furrowed her eyebrows, blocking out the irksome enchanted object when a much more interesting sound fell upon her enhanced ears. Wisps of magic swirled as she turned to see a white stag about to nudge her.

Cursing, she shot out of the shop and hurried up the long slope to the castle, tripping over her robes more than once in her haste. By the time she had reached the pair, Draco was wailing in a cowardly fashion at the limp form of Harry on the floor. Gritting her teeth against the smell of blood, she stepped cautiously across the floor and knelt by Draco's side to let the boy cling to her to avoid looking at the form on the floor. She stared, rather horrified at the glassy-eyed Harry.

"What do we do?" The blond male mumbled into her shoulder.

For want of a better answer, she shrugged, still staring, mesmerised at Harry. For a few moments they both sat in silence in the company of the brunette, until Suki hesitantly unravelled herself from Draco and crawled over to the motionless wizard. Despite his qualms, the Slytherin followed her and helped her lift the limp form of Harry up into their hold. It was then they felt a small but determined pulse throbbing through the body.

"Aargh!" Suki nearly dropped the body in her surprise, and simply abandoned Draco, leaving him holding Harry's arms and legs in an ungraceful bundle as she scampered off to let the blond to fend for himself. Horribly inexperienced, in shock, and not to mention wracked with guilt the young man composed himself before setting Harry down on the bed swiftly and summoning several potions to him, uncorking them deftly and forcing them down Harry's dry throat. The blood replenishing effects soon took hold, but he found that the blood was seeping out of the neck punctures almost as fast as the potions could replenish it. Still wide eyed and terrified he nervously experimented with some healing charms, each with varying degrees of success, until the wound was at least partially closed.

Wincing slightly, Draco ripped off a few strips of his brand new, luxury Egyptian cotton bed sheets and pressed them carefully to Harry's wound. Fortunately he was well fed and so the sight of the scarlet liquid had little effect on him - for a while. The thoughts of how expensive this linen was temporarily occupied his mind, so it took him a few seconds to comprehend that the damage he was making pathetic attempts to heal had been orchestrated by none other than himself. That nasty little realisation made him sick to his stomach.

Harry was making no sound and his eyes were closed, but at least he was breathing. The tell tale rise and fall of his chest somewhat settled Draco's nerves, but did little to still the feelings of guilt and remorse stirring in his stomach.

His memories of the event were vague; hazy. He couldn't recall the exact moment he had inflicted the injury, yet he could somewhat remember the events leading up to it. The healthy pink tinge on his cheeks vanished and the dark liquid in his veins ran cold.

Harry had sacrificed himself to ease his suffering. Draco groaned audibly - what an utterly Gryffindor thing to do. Although he was loathe to condone such irritatingly foolish acts, he had to admit he felt a rush of gratitude and respect for the Gryffindor lying motionlessly near him. Somehow he doubted that if put in the same situation, he would act like the brunette had. His rational mind agreed, arguing that he was too clever to risk such an idiotic action, and yet somewhere in the back of his mind a niggling feeling of respect refused to be silenced.

He watched Harry with trepidation.

He was just tearing off another achingly expensive strip of bed linen to replace the dripping rag in his right hand when his Sire rushed through the door with armfuls of potions. Big bottles, small vials, jars, wooden boxes, leaking objects and tubes of vile-looking ingredients were flung unceremoniously down on the sheets (Draco groaned inwardly) and the woman wriggled onto the bed, roughly straddling the unconscious boy in order to empty the contents of several containers down his throat. After massaging some green balm into the puncture wound and checking the Gryffindor's pulse she rolled off. Managing to smack her head brutally on the bedside table as she did so, she snorted an ingredient that unfortunately was clutched tightly in one fist until the shock of the impact released it: sending spirals of the suspicious looking dust sprawling into the air and up her nose. Chaos ensued as she shrieked and scrambled to her feet, making a break for Draco's en suite bathroom to her left.

After yelling some desperate commands to Draco through the door, she remained inside whilst he followed her orders. Not long after he had finished did Harry seem far better - his pallor had turned from deathly white to a pale shade of peach. A marginal improvement perhaps, but it was enough to satisfy Draco. He took up seat next to the unconscious young man and waited in the silence only interrupted by the retching emanating from the bathroom. The Malfoy wrinkled his nose in distaste, but enquired as to her health in between the sounds. When he received no reply, he sighed and settled himself into a comfortable position and waited patiently for the cavalry to arrive.

* * *

**Once again- Aki Vos :)**

**Yana5: :D haha sorry about that! Can't promise it wont happen again, though!**

**DesertRoseFallen: Oh good! I hoped you would ^^ I think you'll like her even more next chapter ;) Which should be done soon enough :P**

**followthedarke: exactamundo :D i bet you can't guess why though. If you do, I shall be most impressed ^^**

**Dark Blue Eyed Angel: I hope you're satisfied with this chapter. It's as gooey as I could bear to make it at this point in the story :D**

**Nikotehfox: Well done for guessing!!! I'm really looking forward to a hunt in the forbidden forest :D that would be fun to write! Muauahha! I shall try and fit it in somewhere ^^**


	16. Chapter 16: It took a storm

It took a storm to bring them closer.

The howling winds beat against the castle so harshly that many a student lay in their beds, thankful for the enchanted walls and reinforced turrets. The sixth year Gryffindor boys' dormitory was quiet save for Ron and Neville's snores. The winds had died down, and no one woke when two figures entered carrying a third, limp shape between them. The vampires tucked Harry into bed before slipping away into the silence.

A few hours later, the peace was disturbed once more when an anxious Slytherin crept in through the door and stood at the foot of the Heroes' bed, watching him sleep. His eyes analyzed his breathing, and his ears listened intently to make sure the brunette's heartbeat was steady and normal. When he was satisfied, he turned to leave, but then decided against it and stood there as the winds gained force again and the moon was swallowed up by clouds.

Draco Malfoy was on the verge of breaking down - a very uncharacteristic situation, he decided. The young man truly never meant to seriously hurt anybody, physically at least; well, apart from Weasley and Granger, and a few other unsavory characters of his acquaintance.

He was selfish, cunning and sneaky on a good day. But never cruel. The cold ways of his family had shaped him body and soul, but deep down he had inherited his father's honour and basic sense of right and wrong - though he had also inherited a knowledge of how to abuse that sense to his own ends. The Malfoys were experts at lying to not just others; but also themselves, and they were fiercely protective of their possessions. A Malfoy was proud and clever, as beautiful as they were intelligent, and always able to find the most inventive and original ways to get what they wanted - Draco was no different. And yet he was. His father had no qualms about sacrificing others to what he considered to be the greater good, but his son was having no such ease with realizing one of the most important aspects of the family's temperament. And so he was having terrible trouble accepting his actions, regardless of the state he was in when they were committed. As a result, here he was: staring at the boy he had hated with a passion for so many years with guilt and pity.

* * *

_I never meant to hurt Potter. Let alone twice. Admittedly, I loathe everything about him and sometimes it would have been unwise to believe that I wouldn't aim a hex or two if he became unbearable, but this is truly beyond the pale. It is a terrible feeling; guilt, and one that I have had the fortune to not be well acquainted with up until now. I have had my fair share of pain and loneliness but they all fade into obscurity compared to this. It is sickening. The small twinge when you curse a first year, or reduce a girl to tears is nothing in comparison - those I have grown far from used to, and, sadistically, actually have begun to rather enjoy. But this, I know I will never grow numb to._

_Mother told me about this once when I was small. She killed a man, a wizard, back in the times where she was a high flying social queen. On her way back from a banquet, he approached her and it got rather unpleasant. Mother being Mother and an excellent duelist, the man ended up cursed into oblivion but very much alive, up to the point where he tottered into the path of a muggle automobile. I still remember the look on her face when she got home._

_In father too, I have seen it. But years of repetition and exposure to the darker side of magic have served to be a most exquisite anesthetic to the troubles being a servant to the Dark Lord bring. In a way, I am glad I take after Mother here._

_And so I watch him; anxious for his return to health. He lies unnaturally still and pale, and despite many happy fantasies of getting one over on Potter this is unpleasantly different. I do not remember much of my transformation, but I recall that he allowed me to bite him - he did it voluntarily. And although I will never admit it to another living soul, his kindness has taught me something. Not much, but a little more respect for Gryffindors in the future may be noted. Only temporarily of course._

_In the meantime, I will seek to repay him. I cannot stand owing people. A debt unpaid is a sign of weakness. A weakness the Ministry Poster boy will never witness if I have any say in it._

_I do rather want my nemesis back. He is rather amusing to run circles around, if nothing else._

* * *

Harry awoke in his own bed, in his own dorm with a rather painful headache. He squinted against the strip of light that streamed through the curtains towards him and rolled over, irritated. The covers of his bed were itchy and the pain in his head did nothing to brighten his mood. He coughed once, and felt the violent movement of the sandpaper - rough lining of his throat with distaste. He sniffed and smacked his chapped lips, letting bleary eyes become accustomed to the low levels of light in the room. They were difficult to open and crusted with sleep. The wizard wearily took in his surroundings: no one was around and somewhere below him the low hum of movement in the castle told him that it was lesson time.

He frowned sleepily, and was vaguely aware that this wasn't where he had last been - but the memory was shrouded in fog and was fading fast, slipping through his grasp like a disappearing dream. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him of bodily needs that needed to be fulfilled, and so he dragged himself from the warm cocoon of his covers and dressed sluggishly, ripping his cuff in his clumsiness. Not bothering to fix it he tottered down the chilly stone steps, still trying to straighten out his thoughts. Harry felt oddly at peace, however . It was as if his mind was slightly numb, and blissfully quiet and free from the maelstrom of thoughts he usually suffered from. He spent a few moments warming himself by the fire. Now it was only simple needs that surfaced through the smog. Grudgingly he made his way back up the stairs to visit the bathroom, to answer a more urgent call of nature. His bones clicked slightly as he walked, and he felt exhausted from simply standing up too long in the bathroom. He washed his hands thoroughly , when he was finished and chose to ignore the noisy complaints from his stomach in favour of glancing at his reflection.

Bloody hell. His hair was far messier than usual, but scrupulously clean and shiny. His face was pale, but the apples of his cheeks were rosy, and his eyes sparkled with energy and light. Harry raised his eyebrow at his reflection - it was a complete contrast to how he felt inside. Leaning one elbow against the sink, he combed a hand through his hair, and wiped at some dirt on his temple. He noticed a split in his lip and touched it tentatively.

After pushing himself up from the sink, he padded over to another mirror to check the other wasn't enchanted. It wasn't. Harry stared back at himself, puzzled. He ran more water, freezing cold this time, and flung it against his face.

And then the smog disappeared as water ran down his neck and sunk into a red patch on his neck. His eyes followed the little droplets as he remembered the events of last night with shock. After a few minutes, Harry groaned.

He was going back to bed.

* * *

It was dark when he woke again. He had been interrupted by his own belly screaming for food, which he rather resented, for his dreams had been pleasant and filled with yellow and the scent of vanilla. Somewhat calmed, he prepared himself mentally, before getting dressed and stumbling around, trying to find his glasses. Looking around the dorm, he saw it was empty save for a small figure sleeping in an armchair across from him. Battle instincts surfaced through and he seized his wand from his bedside table with unusual speed. The closer he got, however, the lower his wand went as he realized that Dobby was dozing amongst the Gryffindor pillows, a cold cup of tea teetering dangerously on his knobbly knee. Harry took it from the elf and put it safely on the floor. He visited the bathroom to recheck his reflection. Average. He sleepily wondered if the events before had been semi-conscious hallucinations, but couldn't be bothered to think too much about it. He continued on his way down to eat.

It took him a while to reach the Entrance Hall as he kept having to stop and rest. He probably hadn't eaten in days, he reasoned, and that idea was confirmed when hunger pangs surged through his stomach at the first smells of food. However - outside the Great Hall, he paused; unsure of whether to go in. The doors were shut and unwelcoming, and something - for Harry couldn't explain it any differently- something was telling him not to. He chose to ignore it however, and made to move again. But exhaustion had taken advantage of the pause, and was seeping up his legs alarmingly. He felt them buckle as his vision darkened, but no sooner had he hit the ground had a pair of strong arms seized him and roughly forced him to his feet, effortlessly taking on his weight. The man took one of Harry's arms and put it round his own neck, supported Harry's torso with the other and swiftly led the way up several flights of stairs and round a corner to finally end up placed, delicately by contrast, in an armchair in an office with a roaring fire. Harry coughed and shakily downed the liquid Mr. Sabarra forced down his throat. The vampire took a seat and watched Harry carefully.

It took a few solid, silent minutes for the brunette to recover. He felt like he had been beaten up underwater, and his breath was ragged, yet he was also aware that he was very vulnerable in the presence of a fully grown vampire who was unashamedly staring at him with an unreadable expression. He stared at the blood-red haired teacher across from him.

"Thanks." He said hoarsely. The man nodded, and flicked his wrist, refilling the goblet. Harry drank thirstily, glugging down the dull green liquid as it filled his insides with comforting warmth. Soon, he set down the goblet and composed himself, gathering strength and building up the courage to talk to the imposing man before him.

"Thank you," he croaked. Using mainly his arms, he levered himself into a standing position and experimented with putting weight on his legs. They wobbled uncontrollably until he relented and sunk back down into his seat. A deep voice interrupted his struggle.

"Tarantallegra."

Harry was involuntarily torn from his seat by a rather spectacular force. His legs jerked involuntarily in strange movements, and his arms flailed uselessly at his sides as he performed an elaborate jig a few feet from the ebony wand pointed at his heart. His pulse tripled and he was about to reach for his wand when the wand twitched and he was relased; left standing breathless in the middle of the room.

"I'm sorry Mr Potter," the vampire said unapologetically. "But that was necessary. It should have warmed the muscles up sufficiently." He rose from his chair in a fluid movement and slunk across the room to Harry and tapped Harry's calf experimentally. With an unfriendly glare, the Sire stood and nodded to a bleary eyed, confused Harry before opening the door for the student to leave. Somewhat perturbed, Harry edged his way out of the classroom and into the hallway. But not before he noticed the pale woman standing in the corner of the room - her dress so dark she blended in almost entirely with the lengthy shadows that stretched out from the furniture by the fire. She regarded him with fearful eyes before turning away and vanishing.

He was ejected outside, and had just time to mumble a "Thank you," before the dark wood door closed in his face. Still feeling weak, Harry simply listened to his brain and went down to eat.

Harry was soon startled to learn that he had been asleep for not just a night, but a few days. And it in those few days when the news had got out. And once it had - it was everywhere, a virus spread by the students themselves. As was usual, Harry was one of the last to know.

He had just walked into a half empty Great Hall when Ron bounded up to him; beaming.

"Harry! You're alright!"

Harry glanced at Hermione before replying. She was approaching, and he could see she was relieved.

"Morning Ron."

Although the fact that the trio had returned to normal was obvious, Harry felt the need to speak.

"Hermione; I'm really sorry. I -"

She cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Forget it. I know you didn't mean to - and besides - rumours die down in a few days regardless of their subject." Her eyes twinkled with anticipation. "And especially when other news gets out." She nudged Ron.

"Have you heard? Malfoy's quit the team! You're back as seeker, mate, the captain's wicked happy!"

Harry's neck snapped towards Ron in a split second. Almost as quickly as a grin sprung onto his face.

"What? Really?"

Ron nodded. "Madam Hooch said as soon as you were better me and you can have a go on the pitch. Up for it?" Harry hadn't been so happy in months. A soaring sensation lifted up his stomach, his heart tightened in anticipation, and he managed a quick nod before joining Ron in the race down to the pitch.

Hermione watched them go. She sighed before returning to her eggs.

* * *

That evening in the common room, a windswept pair of sixth years settled contentedly by the fire.

The spark was back in Harry as he chatted to Ron about the upcoming match. He had nearly forgotten about how wonderful flying was, and he was buzzing as a result. Hermione listened absently as she skim read a potions book. She waited for the lull in conversation to put up a silencing charm around them and voiced the question she and Ron had been waiting to for days.

"Harry. What happened?"

Silence.

"Don't be a prat, Harry. We were worried sick."

Harry glanced up at them.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"We're going to find out sooner or later Harry. Whatever puts you out of action for a few days isn't something we're going to overlook."

Harry could tell this was one of the times where she wasn't going to give in. And from the look of it; neither was Ron. Unwilling to get into an argument again, he said reluctantly: "I went to talk to…him. About what happened between you two." Ron twitched slightly, but Harry continued. "We got into a bit of a fight, and he changed and bit me." He blurted it out and sank back into his chair, glaring at the two of them.

Hermione clamped a hand to her mouth. Ron simply sat, unsure of how to react.

"Oh, Merlin! Harry, why didn't you tell us where you were going?"

"Well I couldn't really could I? Ron was being an arse and you weren't even speaking to us. Anyway, I didn't manage to get an answer out of him. Speaking of which, why did we see you with him if you're not together?" He averted the subject.

"What? Oh!" Hermione flushed deeply. With embarrassment or anger, it was impossible to tell. "You're such an idiot Harry. I was asking if he needed any help, because, well… you asked me why I've been acting so oddly this year? Well, I spent the majority of the summer holidays with my uncle who….who got bitten a few months ago. My mum had no idea what to do, and so she turned to me for advice. We've spent a lot of time talking things through with him, and we had some wizards and witches over to help with his transformations and the like. "So naturally I've read up on this sort of stuff, and I just thought that Malfoy sounded like- like he needed…so-some help." By the end of her little speech she was on the verge of tears. " So I'm sorry if I've been telling you to do one thing one day, and then telling you off for it the next, and I'm sorry if I've been snarky and running off to owl him a lot of the time. But it's just been awful." The steely determination returned to her when she looked up. "And that's why we need to help Malfoy! He's just a boy and my uncle nearly went mad. Do you see?"

"Yeah Hermione," said Harry gently. "We understand."

She nodded with renewed vigour. "But that doesn't mean you should get hurt, Harry. Ron and I won't let that happen again. Do you need to go to Madame Pomfrey? No? Alright then. I'm going to the library to see what I can find out. I'll see you two later." She dashed out of sight.

"Wow Harry," Ron smirked. "You must feel like a prick."

He sniggered. Ron's joke was truly feeble. "But seriously Harry. D'you reckon she's alright?"

"Sure. She'll be fine, just go easy on her for a bit, yeah? Right. I'm gonna head up early, so night."

"Wait! Harry! And what about you? You're O.K too?"

"Yeah. I'm the new Gryffindor seeker, don't forget. See you for practice in the morning!"

"Yeah. Night, Harry."

* * *

**Review Replies:**

**DesertRoseFallen: Hehe :) I quite like the idea of Harry being a Slytherin, actually. Perhaps that's an idea for a future fic? Nice one, thanks ^^**

**Yana5: Sure is. Was the whole Sire thing to complicated? Or is it easy to grasp. Not sure how you and everyone would react.**

**realityfling18: :D You're in for a shock soon, then. But a good one in the long run. Dun dun Duuuuunn**

**yukibre94: It does? Oh noes! What bits are confusing? Sorry **

**rawrr: Thanks! It was tough T^T but I resisted ;) Sorry this chappie's taken so long!**

**Sparassidae: Awh darn. Thanks :) I'll change that when/ if I decide to edit this. Man, you have sharp eyes, nice one. Yupp. The summary did suck a bit. Suggestions on how to improve it are always appreciated?**

**Nikotehfox: Muhahahha! You're back! Your name always reminds me of Naruto **

**Itanaru101: Nope :) Harry's not turning, but he'll see some odd side effects!**

**Midori Heiwa: Well shucks :) thanks that means a lot**

**SasuNaru14: I'll reply to both your reviews in one if that's ok? Ah no! I read somewhere that it was given off in hugs. Well that's embarassing. I know Draco has problems every month, but seriously. Arghk! Bad mental image! And thankyou :)**


	17. Chapter 17: Acting on instinct

It was not long before the inevitable happened. Less than a week later the current Slytherin seeker, a slim child by the name of Tobias took a rather nasty fall down several flights of moving stairs, confining him to one of Madame Pomfrey's beds and forcing him to gallantly quit the team. By his own free will, naturally.

The week had been on the whole: uneventful, until that point. Hermione was slowly returning to normal now she had no secrets to distract her, and Ron was knuckling down on practice. Harry was managing to maintain a balance between the amount of time he spent doing homework and on the pitch, therefore all was well. It was so peaceful he even managed to owl Lupin and Sirius a few times more than usual.

The peace was due, by and large, to the lack of a certain Slytherin's presence in the Gryffindors' lives. Professor Dumbledore had made good on his promise to not depend on Harry to supervise Malfoy any more, and so now the classes they had with him were few and far between. It was relaxing, really, not to have to be constantly on the lookout for a white-blond head in the corridors and classrooms. Letting his guard down was something Harry enjoyed doing, yet managed to do very seldom; in fact, the chances to do so were as rare as a Quidditch victory for Hufflepuff.

And so the Quidditch match loomed ever closer, and the buzz of rumours about the circumstances surrounding Malfoy's disappearance from the team still circulated; unconfirmed. When the day finally arrived, Ron woke Harry rather unkindly.

"Harry! Harry, wake up! Levicorpus!"

"Arrrk!" The seeker was unceremoniously yanked from his bed by a strong rope of magic, and thrust roughly against the ceiling. The spell was released when Ron swore, and Harry dropped to the floor rather painfully.

"Sorry, mate! You alright?" The reply was a nod as Harry rose gingerly to his feet. He examined his sore elbow.

"Ouch, Ron. What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? Harry, have you gone all Lockhart on me? It's the match. We need to get practise in before Slytherin arrive!"

Harry rubbed his eyes and accioed his glasses towards him, gazed blearily out of the still - dark window and sighed resignedly. He tugged on his kit and sloped off down towards the pitch.

When he arrived, the grass and sky was lit with large white globes that hung in the darkness. It began to drizzle as they neared Angelina, and she jogged up to them to clap Harry on the back.

"Good to have you back Harry. We haven't practised much as a team yet and I thought we could cram. Slytherin's pretty tight. They announced their new seeker last night - no prizes for guessing. This is going to be tough." She turned to address her team through the darkness. "Alright guys. This is it - fix out any notches in your game before dawn, then we'll do some drills." The balls were released and Harry was catapulted into the sky on his trusty Firebolt. It took several minutes for him to notice it wasn't just his captain who was watching him.

Miss Synthra peeked round one of the Gryffindor stands to watch the team in action. They flittered in and out of the lamplight so fast it would have been nearly impossible to see with human eyes. The globes cast pale light on the players, but she could easily spot Harry. She analysed him until she was interrupted.

"Good morning, Professor. Can I help?" Angelina eyed the woman suspiciously.

"Er…no thank you, Mrs Johnson. Your-uhm. Your team flies very well."

"Thank you. Was there anything else?"

"N-no. I hope the match goes well." Without a backwards glance, the woman turned and fled towards the castle; Angelina kissed her teeth at the retreating figure. Ginny and Ron hovered a few feet above her, looking down at her quizzically.

"Woah. What was all that about?" The young man asked.

"No idea. There's something not right about that woman…no wonder McGonagall doesn't trust her about as far as she can throw a troll."

"Luna says there's something going on between her and that dishy astronomy teacher," Ginny piped up.

"Luna says Snape cries when he sees horseradishes," Ron said sceptically. "I wouldn't believe everything she says, Gin."

His sister flushed angrily. "Well they did arrive together! How do you explain that, Mr. Know-it-all!?" It was Ron's ear's turn to flush, but before the squabble could evolve into a full-blown sibling-war, Angelina intervened.

"Oi! Cut it out you two. Get back to training."

* * *

"There's nothing wrong with him. I was watching Harry for a good ten minutes, and he shows no signs of weakness or injury. He's fine, honestly."

"Just because we can't see it doesn't mean it's not there." The vampire said darkly.

Suki and her Sire, Blaze, were perched on a windowsill somewhere in the astronomy tower watching the sunrise. They could see a few owls swooping round the turrets, stretching their wings before they went to roost whilst others sleepily flapped away from the castle with packages and letters strapped to their scrawny legs.

Blaze turned to look at her for a long moment. "Did you remember to mark your fourth-year papers?" His companion's eyes widened in terror, and she slipped off of the windowsill. He didn't bother to catch her, though he nearly lurched forwards reflexively. Suki plummeted fifty or so feet onto the roof of a lower floor where she landed flat on her face. She groaned, before getting to her feet and setting off across the rooftop towards her office, the light of the sunrise bouncing off her white features.

Blaze watched her go without emotion. He had wanted to witness the sunrise on his own, anyway. Settling back into the nooks and crannies of the stone he waited for the sun to heat up his chilly skin.

A few hours later he cracked open one eye to see that the sun had fully risen, and was now fighting its way through the snatches of cloud. A mild winter breeze ruffled his hair and robes as he climbed back through the window and out of his office. Blaze joined the throngs of students clamouring to negate the network of corridors down to the pitch, oblivious to the teenage girls squealing and swooning as he swept by. A while later he managed to push his way through the crowds to reach his spot in the teachers' area. Suki was already there, a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans clutched in her bony hands. She eyed him nervously and offered him the bag.

He took one silently, and popped it into his mouth. It turned out to be coffee. He chewed on it for a moment, rather enjoying the taste. Blaze looked around the stands, hands pressing firmly into the cold wood bench on either side of him. He noticed Minerva slyly observing his fledgling out of the corner of her eye - he followed her gaze to Suki, who was now shovelling the beans into her mouth five or six at a time. He whipped out a hand to stop her when she was on the verge of scooping more into her mouth; and selected an orange bean from the selection in her palm. He ate the wizard sweet in a (what he liked to think) pointed manner, glaring hard at the Head of Gryffindor whilst she stared haughtily back.

Suki was oblivious to the war going on behind her - she had just found her favourite: strawberry and artichoke.

* * *

Harry waited in the Gryffindor strategy room apprehensively to say the least. His heart was thudding loudly in his ears, and it wasn't just because Ginny was gripping his hand as though it was anchoring her on earth. The young wizard had never been as nervous about such a trivial game before, but he felt compelled to beat the team more than usual this afternoon.

Malfoy had easily won three games over the past few months, and Harry had no intention of breaking the streak. If he did, he worried that the team might wish the Slytherin was back on their team after all. His paranoia was overcoming his rational side, and not for the first time. Yet he was also frightened about taking on Malfoy - vampire Malfoy, that was. He and Hermione had been outside the Room of Requirement the night before, helplessly listening to the muffled the cries that sounded from within the sealed chamber.

It was full moon, and as he had read in paragraph 64, section three of : Ernie Englebottom's guide to vampires and their habits, Malfoy was at his physical peak. Since it was the second moon, the Slytherin was at his most vampirian. Harry couldn't help but be a little nervous.

The seconds ticked by until the game, and it seemed with every passing moment Ginny's grip tightened. Harry was sure she was breaking something. If she didn't, then Ron certainly would judging by the glares he was shooting at them from across the room. So when the horn finally sounded, it wasn't all bad.

An awed hush flowed around the stadium as the teams approached the grass. The Gryffindors filed onto the pitch wordlessly, mouths shut in a grim line, whilst the Slytherins slid across the grass in pairs. Harry kept his eyes strictly on the floor. Some part of him still wanted him to avoid Malfoy more than it wanted him to breathe.

"Go!" The Gryffindor team kicked off perfectly in sync settling into their positions in mid air as their opponents did the same. It was silent. And then the Balls were released.

Pandemonium set in when the Quaffle landed in he hands of Ginny Weasley, the Bludger almost hit Ritchie Coote; the Gryffindor Beater in the face, and the snitch disappeared into the silver of a cloud. Harry cursed as he sailed upwards in pursuit, and the thrum of the match became nothing but a murmur in his ears. His eyes were as focused as his brain. All thoughts drained away and he was completely calm. Emerald eyes searched through the blue of the sky for a flicker of movement, a stirring in the air.

He thought he saw a glimpse of it once or twice, but it turned out to be the glint of a Ravenclaw girl's mirror and a bird in the distance. About an hour into the game, he was so intent on his mission that he was completely unaware that Crabbe had slammed a Bludger in his direction.

"Harry look out!" The scream came from Ginny far below him, and was enough to snap him from his trance. But it was too late. The Bludger was bearing down upon him so fast that he took the only option possible. He slipped off his broom, and dangled by his hands. A risky maneuver, but it paid off as the crowd let out shrieks of anticipation and fear. Harry quickly angled himself whilst the Bludger was sailing the other way, caught in its own momentum, and flipped the broom round him, then under him. He let out a sigh of relief as his body made contact with his Firebolt and he easily shook off the irked Bludger that targeted him a few times before homing in on Angelina.

It was then he saw it. A blond figure was already rocketing after it, up into the sky and Harry blanched with fear before kicking his broom into immediate action. Although Malfoy had the lead, Harry had the better broom and soon he was zooming towards his opponent at a sickening speed.

The two of them burst through a cloud, less than ten feet from one another. But something made Malfoy falter, and he looked behind him; just for a second. A fraction of a second.

That moment was enough. Harry was so horrified, he almost stopped his broom - it was quite evident that something was seriously wrong. His stomach heaved as his eyes took in the form before him. Malfoy's eyes were wide, vacant and circled with thick black. His face was white as winter snow and he looked skeletal he was so thin. His outstretched hand looked like it was about to snap off of his wrist his long fingers looked like twigs.

Harry wasn't paying attention when Malfoy's fingers closed around the tiny golden ball. But he was when the appendages released it. Harry, completely on an instinct snatched the Snitch out of the air just milliseconds after it had been released, and he stared at it like it had suddenly told him the answer to life was forty-two. He looked blankly at Malfoy who gazed back at him, eerily like Luna.

"Congratulations, Potter." The young Slytherin said slowly, and Harry's mouth fell open.

* * *

_I wasn't sure if I meant to do it or not. I wasn't sure if my rational side had completely forgotten to remind me of the hell my fellow Slytherins would unleash on me. Nor was I sure why I did it. But I did._

_I think it was a spur of the moment decision, if I am honest. It did not feel right, snatching victory from him when he would've won usually- had he been in perfect health. If I had not seen the faint bite marks on his neck in those few moments before I grasped it, it's doubtful that I would have relented._

_At times I resent my newfound conscience, especially now considering my current condition. But as I am frequently told by my Sire, it is that that sets me apart from the rest of my kind: the families tied to Voldemort. I sincerely hope that it manages to get me through not only that situation, but the current crisis, also._

* * *

It was one of the worst victories Harry had ever experienced. He sat through the festivities in the tower, of course, but the gnawing in his stomach stopped him from really enjoying it. Images of Malfoy and questions were circling endlessly in his head, and he found it difficult to focus on anything anyone was saying. So he headed upstairs to his dormitory for some calm, and settled onto his bed and stared out of the window at the waning moon. It took less than twenty minutes for Hermione to follow him, and he felt her reassuring weight at the end of his bed.

"Harry?"

Her welcome voice broke the silence. He murmured to let her know he was awake.

"Harry, do you want to tell me what the matter is?"

"I didn't win the match."

She said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"Malfoy caught it first. But then he let go. And something's wrong with him, Hermione. He…he didn't look right, up there."

She let out a long, slow breath. "I thought this might happen. Didn't you?"

He sat bolt upright, sending his glasses flying off of his face. "What?" She calmly passed them to him and waited a moment before she continued.

"Well when he was bitten, it was interrupted, right? It only makes sense that he's a little different from the textbook vampire. Of course, it makes helping him so much more difficult…." She trailed off and they both stared at the magnificent silver rock. It seemed so close.

"Harry, I don't think it's just the full moon that's effecting him," she said meaningfully.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think it's my place to say"

"Hermi-" she shushed him, and headed to the door.

"If you want to know so badly, then why don't you ask him yourself?"

* * *

And so he did.

His body knew what he was going to do before he knew it himself. If Hermione had known, she would've stopped him.

Regardless, he slipped on his invisibility cloak and pocketed his Marauder's map. Harry crept out of the door and squeezed through the multitudes of people swarming in the common room, careful not to touch them. No one noticed the portrait hole swing open and shut, and so the brunette slunk off down the corridors, narrowly avoiding Snape, who was chasing Peeves around a corner and missed his most hated pupil by mere millimetres. Harry decided he was getting too old for this.

When he eventually reached the dungeons, he realised that he hadn't thought this through terribly well. But someone up there was smiling down on him - a shifty looking Slytherin bustled through the cold stone hallways with something shoved up his cashmere jumper, and Harry slid through after him.

The common room had not changed since he had been in here, Polyjuiced in his second year. The dark leather sofas were still polished and faced the fire, and the grand room was not as cold as one would think. Groups of dejected looking Slytherins were dotted around the room but he ignored them in favour of a familiar passageway which he followed cautiously. The torches on the walls lit the way brightly, and he relied on his compass/ wand to guide him through the junctions he did not recognise. Eventually, he came to the hall. The hall where he had nearly died last time he had visited it and battled with a vampire. Pushing that thought out of his head he ran up the steps and approached one of the doors.

"Draconius Malfoy," a silver plaque announced. Thankfully non-verbally.

Harry supposed that it would be foolish to hope that the door would be unlocked, but he tried it just in case, and was pleasantly surprised when it turned, and so he pushed open the door soundlessly. His heart beat quickened out of fear and anticipation. He entered the room and pushed the door to, taking care to not shut it to create unnecessary noise.

He spotted Malfoy. The ex-heir was sitting, slumped at his ebony desk with his head in his hands. He didn't look up as Harry entered, or when the fire threatened to set fire to his thousand-galleon shag pile carpet by spitting sparks angrily.

"Malfoy." The blonde teen whipped round, his wand at the ready and his eyes wide with fear.

"Who's there?" He snapped, feigning confidence. Harry slid off the invisibility cloak and watched Malfoy blanch. "Oh Merlin. Fuck off, Potter. Who let you in here?"

"I didn't come here for a fight." Harry squared his 's tired mouth paused; about to sound out the first vowel of an insult. "Why did you let me win?"

"I didn't," Malfoy lied smoothly. "It slipped from my grasp."

"Bullshit."

"Alright then. Because you're such an awful player that it would make the final a sure victory for us."

Harry raised an eyebrow, and Malfoy swayed for a second when his eyes threatened to close. "Look Potter. I'm bored of insulting you for today, so could you take your masochistic self elsewhere if you would be so kind?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"What? Nothing's wrong with me, now kindly bugger off!"

"Why are you so thin?"

"Merlin, Potter! Are you deaf as well as stupid? I asked to be left alone!" It hit Harry then, what was wrong with Malfoy. It was obvious, really and he wondered how he had not seen it before - Malfoy was hungry. And so Harry the hero did the only thing he could do.

Instinctively, Harry Potter took his wand, and pricked his finger.

This time, it was so much different. His entire body relaxed when the hunger crazed vampire pounced on him and sunk its fangs into his neck. A wash of warm pleasure filled him, and he began to feel odd. His eyes slid shut, but his consciousness drifted forwards to the front of his body. It flowed pleasantly to his exposed skin and he felt a closeness he had never before witnessed. He felt connected to the vampire that clutched him so desperately. Deep heat penetrated the points on his skin that the blond touched with his own bare flesh - their hands and faces. The vampire seemed to falter, noticing the strange sensations and yet not enough to keep it from its meal. Harry was in bliss. He floated around in a peaceful world of vanilla and yellow, warm and calm and free from thoughts.

Here, the Dark Lord could not touch him.

His mind was so completely involved that there was no room for any worries to pierce his mind, and when the vampire instinctively knew to release him, it was with reluctance that he let go of the blond locks he hadn't known he had been clutching so desperately. Harry touched his neck tentatively, yet found that he could physically feel the skin growing over the wound. He opened his eyes. He was numb and lightheaded, but he felt wonderful. And when he looked at the vampire, he didn't expect to see it half curled up on the floor, fast asleep.

Harry returned to the Gryffindor tower and slept peacefully, unhindered by nightmares for the first time in seven months.

* * *

So there's the next one! Thanks to my Beta, Aki Vos who got this one done super quick as always!

**Review Replies:**

**Crimsoneyes44: Thankyou ^^ hope you enjoyed this one!**

**Yana5: Why thankyou. What are you hoping happens next?**

**heartshaped-sunglasses: Edd Wood? Never heard of it it's not a sneaky twilight reference, is it? Please no! :D Thanks :)**

**syrini: Wow, cool! Your name sound like dragini and suki mixed up :3 Hehe me too! I'm getting to it, don't fret!**

**Hyper Hippie: Yayness! Awh sucks, thankyou :) Yeah I reckon it's one of the few selfless things this boy will ever do! Sorry I haven't done the bite side effects here. I promise it'll be in the next chapter looking forward to your next review!**

**Iconic : Firstly, I want to sincerely thank you for that wonderful review! It made me glow, and gave me the willpower to stay up late into the night to get this chapter to you. It's comments like yours that give writers the courage to do what they do ^^**

**Secondly, I must apologise. My beta reader and I have similar tastes, so I'm ashamed to say neither of us even thought about different types of reader. Although slow moving, I wanted to spread it out and emphasize the normality of Harry's life here, simply because in the next few months everything will be turned upside down. **

**Any tips or comments you can offer will be of great help to me. I hope that, in other chapters it has speeded up a little but I know that it hasn't very much. I thrive on constructive criticism, so please do not hesitate! How else will I get better? I look forward to your reply!**

**Nikotehfox: Muhaha :) all is revealed.....soon. ish.**

**Raininglove: I'm sorry but I have to say it - your name is cool :) you can take it as Rain in glove or Raining love. Hehe! Anyway, sorry about that. It made you giggle? Which bit? ^^ Ooh I love too! Don't worry there's plenty more where that came from!**

**ebonpinion: Yup! Narcy will have a big part to play later on in the story - never fear! You will see the crazy woman again :) Thanks for your review!**


	18. Chapter 18: The Daily Prophet

Something had definitely changed when Harry woke up the next morning. He sprung out of bed like a tightly coiled wire, surprising his dorm mates with his early morning energy. Their late night celebrations had continued until less than three hours ago and many were sorely regretting that last pint of Butterbeer - it didn't mean of course, that next time they would do things any differently. Despite it now being a Monday with charms first on their timetable.

Harry bounced around the room, alive with energy and packing his schoolbag without the aid of his wand, for once and he managed to make his bed, tickle Ron's feet and open the window before he was stopped.

"Harry. If you don't shut up and stop making so much noise, I will be forced to hex you. Ginny taught me her technique for a Bat Bogey," Ron mumbled sleepily. Appreciative grunts sounded from various other four poster beds around the bedchamber.

Harry gulped. Unwilling to be on the receiving end of that particular spell, he promptly decided to take his energy into the bathroom for a long shower. The room was completely fogged up by the time he had finished. He was forced to perform a complicated banishing charm to enable himself to actually see what was in the mirror; what was in the mirror startled him.

The odd about him look was back, and stronger than ever. His hair was sleek and glossy, falling in an endearingly messy way onto defined features covered with matte, peachy skin and his eyes glowed with a vicious energy, sharp and sparkling. His lips were a soft shade of rose and he examined his reflection closely; rubbing his nose with his finger and scrutinising the new depths in his eyes. Harry tapped the window experimentally, and tried talking to it before swapping to another mirror like last time. After a few minutes, he hitched up his towel and pushed the worry to the back of his mid storing it up with countless other until later.

By the time he had finished in the bathroom, most of the other boys had managed to drag themselves out of bed and were sluggishly wandering around the dorm in search of their robes. Harry flitted between them and got changed as fast as he could; stomach growling with hunger. He ushered Ron into the bathroom and decided to get a head start on his Potions essay whilst he waited for his friend, and oddly he found it incredibly easy - his brain was perfectly in sync with the book he pored over, and he wrote paragraph after paragraph smoothly over his parchment. Surprised and satisfied, he had completed the two foot long essay and cleared all his things away by the time a bleary eyed Ron grunted at him from the entrance to the dorm, signifying his state of readiness.

Harry beamed at him, half blinding Ron with his pearly teeth. The brunette noticed a splodge of ink on the very tip of his companion's nose, but neglected to say anything about it - in Ron's current mood, it was best to keep quiet: he had learnt this valuable lesson the hard way. He unconsciously rubbed the tiny scar Ron had given him last time. Nevertheless, people were looking at them oddly as they made their way down to the Great Hall.

Halfway there, Hermione caught up to them. Ron was feeling a little more preky now the smell of bacon and eggs had reached his nostrils, and the scent seemed to be dragging him nose first down the stairs.

"Morning, boys!" She smiled at them broadly. When she set eyes on Harry, however, her expression changed to one of surprise, then astonishment before settling into a mildly confused look and it took several minutes of silence and throwing odd glances Harry's way until she finally came out with it.

"Ron, would you mind going on without us? I need to ask Harry about an essay." Ron murmured his consent and continued in his dream like trance towards the food. Hermione beckoned Harry across to the edge of the hallway and whispered:

"Harry, I don't mean to be rude, but…are you wearing a glamour?"

Harry reared back. "What?"

"It's just you look a little different this morning."

"Er, no I'm not. I can't even change the colour of my eyebrows, 'Mione, let alone use a glamour."

"I suppose so. Sorry. But, er, have you done anything special?"

Harry panicked. If he told her what had happened, she would skin him alive, bury him, and then reanimate him to have the satisfaction of doing it all over again.

"No. I did drink a potion Luna gave me though," he lied.

"Oh. Really? Well, you look very handsome is all. You should talk to Ginny before it wears off," she winked at him, chuckling when his mouth fell open.

"How do you know?!"

"You don't exactly make it a secret you like her Harry. And visa versa. Just talk to Ron about it first though, ok?"

He nodded in a strangled fashion before obediently following her downstairs. So now he realised why people were staring at him. Still; it was a pleasant change from them glaring at him because of some article in the Daily Prophet.

That particular paper was already on his plate when he came to sit down but before he picked it up he helped himself to some sausage, and sat chewing on a forkful whilst looking at Hermione and Ron, who were staring at the paper unmoving. Curious, he picked it up. The headline screamed:

"The infamous Death Eater finally brought to Justice: Lucius Malfoy jailed for crimes against humanity!"

Harry froze. What little blood he had drained from his face, his stomach back flipped inside him, and he willed himself to not turn to look at the centre of the Slytherin table without finishing reading the article. From the sounds of it, other students had already read it and were discussing it in less than hushed whispers throughout the hall.

"Lucius Malfoy was arrested yesterday at his residence in the South of England. The minister for magic, Mr. Fudge had this to say:

"Mr Malfoy had been eluding the law for many years, and it is a tribute to our growing success that we have managed to pin him on something. His official hearing will be Tuesday week. I am looking forward to this chance - it may shed some light on the current 'He Who Must Not Be Named' situation. The ministry is doing everything in its power to hunt down these owtlaws - Lucius Malfoy's presence in our society was, and is, an outrage."

Story continues on page five…"

Harry closed the paper solemnly and took a few, deep breaths before turning around to the Slytherin table, heart beating wildly in his ribcage. But Malfoy's place was empty. A sudden bang in the Entrance Hall had all the students to their feet and racing to the door to see what was going on.

* * *

Blaise Zabini was standing in the entrance hall, puffing out his chest and pulling himself up to full height. He was about to seize his chance- his fellow Slytherins were still deciding how to react to the news; did this make Malfoy an even stronger, independent opponent or did the loss of the backing from his father make him an easy target? Blaise was set on turning them his way.

"Oi, Malfoy!"

Normally, he would never have dared. But his brief taste of power near the forest months ago had sewn a seed in his head, a seed which required supremacy. With a few Slytherin henchmen of his own, Blaise hurtled down the steps towards the soon to be demoted Slytherin prince.

But the prince ignored him.

Irked, Blaise yelled once more: "Malfoy! I know you can hear me!" This time, the blond and his cronies stopped and turned slowly. Blaise shuddered, but managed to hold his ground under the withering gaze of a just- fed vampire.

"Heard about your Daddy?" Blaise enquired, voice dripping with sickly sweet honey. A few dozen people huddled round to watch, and he paused until their numbers had risen still more. "Who's going to protect you now, rat? It's not going to be your mummy, or those two morons you call friends."

A sharp flick of his wrist and curses joined his as the spells hit Crabbe and Goyle square in the chest, sending the pair sprawling backwards to then lay still. Malfoy barely had time to dodge one of the poorer aimed curses the smallest of Blaise's troupe threw. Their leader thwacked the culprit harshly over the head with the back of his hand and scowled.

The blond calculated which route Blaise was going to take. It didn't take long for him to realise that Blaise considered this the final showdown, and that any move he made now could ignite the flame of hatred that he could see had been building up for many months. He wasn't feeling up to a fight - his insides were black with grief and although full with blood, Malfoy was miserable and slow witted. So the vampire stayed perfectly still.

"What makes you special, Malfoy? Your family has nothing. The ministry will see to that, and I for one will be glad when they lock your father up - because then they'll come for you!"

The young man couldn't help but blanch at that. Blaise noticed he had touched a sore spot and took care to press it harder.

"Askaban, Malfoy. How do you think you'll do in there? If your father lasts a month, you'll last a day."

That was enough talk. Both Slytherins were aware of the still-growing crowd and out of the corner of his eye he noticed Potter coming this way. He was getting sick of Blaise and his poorly executed plots- it was time to end his pathetic attempt at a coup. He turned to face his challenger full on and alone; Crabbe and Goyle were barely stirring at his feet.

"Come on then, Malfoy."

It was then that Blaise did something very stupid - he took off his jumper and laid down his wand. Draco eyed him curiously, but with a hint of satisfaction. Evidently Blaise wasn't confident enough in his abilities to demand a duel.

Malfoy was just levitating Crabbe and Goyle out of harm's way when Blaise landed the first punch. It hit him right in the face, and was actually rather painful. A sneaky Slytherin start to a fight - very fitting.

Most of the people in the room were expecting a pretty good brawl. Doubtless, Blaise had proven to be stronger than Draco in the past - a few punches in previous years had shown that despite magically strong, Malfoy was a weak fighter. Moreover, most hadn't failed to notice that he had become thinner and frailer over the past few weeks. But he was still the respected and more so, feared by many. None were foolish enough to believe he would go down without a fight. Yet only one or two were close enough to notice the difference in him today.

Blaise landed another punch on Malfoy before the other could rise from putting down his wand. The blond stood tall and rolled with one or two more punches, slowly letting the anger build up in him and trying to determine to optimum time to strike. Having just fed, he thought one well placed punch would be enough. But his method wasn't quick enough, and people were here. So he had a brainwave, an idea to help quickly build up his anger - he merely glanced at the Gryffindor trio.

People had made way for Harry, Ron and Hermione who were at the forefront of the crowd, watching in horrified silence. The latter looked like she was desperate to stop the fight but the precious Golden Boy was holding onto her tightly, his mouth set in a grim line. Being protected from Hermione was the last straw.

Draco drew back his arm and punched Blaise Zabini straight in the face. The impact sent the young man sprawling to the ground in pursuit of a few of his teeth and a smattering of his own blood. A shocked silence filled the room. It was safe to say that no one had expected Malfoy to actually win - let alone that easily and viciously, and the look on his face reinforced the fear and quiet respect that he had been in danger of losing had he run from Blaise. Everyone had known him to be a coward, but here he stood: towering over a six foot three boy who was whimpering on the floor after just one punch, and Malfoy with a rather masculine snarl rippling on his lips. Many took a step back from him as they took a proper look at him for the first time that day.

Most of his grief had converted itself to anger, but now it was coming back and it burned in his eyes and emanated from him like a particularly volatile smoke. A few strands of white-blond hair flopped in front of his face but otherwise he was perfectly still- he didn't even seem to breathe he was so motionless. Then his muscles were all too visible beneath his shirt as they moved when he turned away to stalk towards his wand; Blaise's followers scattered like mice when he turned to face them, leaving their leader bloodstained and sniveling on the chilly marble floor. Draco chose this particular moment to sneer, but a furious shriek rather ruined the moment.

"Mister Malfoy! Come with me this instant!" Professor McGonagall strode through the doors and through the parted crowd towards him. Too emotionally drained and not in the mood to complain, Malfoy allowed himself to be escorted up the stairs by a fuming Scotswoman, the smell of blood sitting tantalizingly in his nostrils. He settled into himself, anger and grief and worry all mixed up together and screaming at him to pay them heed - his eyes glazed over as he shut himself down, he wasn't about to listen to half an hours' lecturing on "proper conduct" in his state.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the Entrance Hall, Blaise's followers had regrouped and were helping him to his feet and assisting him up the stairs towards the hospital room. Professor Flitwick muttered "Levicorpus," and followed them with Crabbe and Goyle in his wake. Everyone was left standing there until Lavender broke the silence by voicing what nearly all the girls were thinking.

"Wow. Malfoy is hot when he's angry," a few people laughed, but most of the boys looked horrified at her confession.

"Lavender!" Ron choked. "How can you say that?"

"She's allowed," said Parvati. "Haven't you noticed? He's become so much more handsome this year, and he's less of a prick, too. I thought it was really noble, him quitting the Gryffindor team like that…maybe he's seen the error of his ways!"

"Dream on," Ginny contributed. "Like Malfoy will ever change. Once a bastard, always a bastard right Harry?"

"But you have to admit it. He is one of the fittest boys in the school now," poked Lavender whilst Ginny shrugged noncommittally. "You're not denying it!"

"Eurgh! Ginny!" Her older brother looked on, appalled.

"I wonder what he'll do without his father now," Hermione murmured. "He won't last long in Azkaban."

"There are ways. Niffler juice is said to be an excellent for dementors, and Mackled Malaclaws are constantly circling the building - they're said to bring blond people good luck." Luna murmured dreamily.

"Er…thanks Luna," mumbled a few people. She smiled brightly and went to examine the puddle of Blaise's blood on the floor.

"Speaking of good looking," Parvati skilfully diverted the conversation back. "What've you done today Harry? You look good."

Harry blushed from head to toe, and to make matters worse Ginny edged nearer to him protectively. "I..er. Got a good night's sleep, that's all."

Hermione shot him a suspicious look, whilst the other females glances' were appreciative. He pretended to have to hurry to charms and hurried off to his classroom, Ron and Hermione in tow.

* * *

The ice prince sat in a tastefully decorated office sipping from a tartan-rimmed teacup. Though slightly chipped it was meticulously clean and reminded him of its owner, who sat across from him with her glasses perched on the end of her nose.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Mr. Malfoy, bearing in mind the current situation, I suggest you take a few days off from your studies to recuperate."

His eyes nearly disappeared into his hairline - he had been expecting a three hour monologue before a hefty point reduction and several weeks worth of detentions so this was unexpected. In retrospect, he considered that the fact that usually one did not offer cups of tea to those they were about to punish should have given it away, but right now he was unnerved, confused and desperately wanting to be left alone. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to be able to deduce things like that.

"I am aware of both your physical condition, and the problems outside of school that may be causing you some stress. Keeping both those factors in mind, the headmaster, your head of house and I have agreed that privacy is a required state at this point in time. That is of course, unless you wish to continue studying?"

Malfoy shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. Hearing it from the lips of this woman was driving the news home more effectively than reading it from that awful paper and the prim letter he had received from the ministry the day before, ever could. It was difficult to maintain his composure, but he pinched his leg in an effort to keep calm and dignified.

"Very well. I think four days should be enough?" Another nod. "Very well. Is there anything else you need? Counselling? A hot meal?"

The woman had had many years in the castle, and despite the boy before being unlike any other she knew perfectly well how to deal with one in his emotional condition - say what needed to be said, and do it quickly.

"I can summon my father's house elf," Draco croaked. She looked disapproving, but relented, reminding him that it could only be for a few days. More than that would be against regulations. He was about to leave, when:

"One more thing Mr. Malfoy. I'm afraid that actions such as those I saw earlier cannot go unpunished. You will be serving detentions for the next month every evening after school hours," her expression softened. "I gather Professor Snape needs help in the dungeons with preparing potions demonstrations." She smiled at him kindly, and gestured that he was free to leave. Draco did so without a word and swept down the corridors with his Malfoy mask firmly in place, only to have it crumble completely when he stepped through the doors to his private room.

He closed the door behind him and collapsed in a heap by the fire, sobs wracking his body. It hurt. It hurt a lot. His father wouldn't last long in prison; he had too many enemies waiting there for him for his stay to be long and pleasant. And disowned or not, he was still his father. Soon he would be alone in the world, truly the last of the main Malfoy branch. That thought stung, a physical pain that started deep within him and he was forced to cry it out, sobbing uncontrollably and heaving in huge breaths as his vision blurred with torrents of tears.

He had not cried like this for years. Not since his mother had revealed her madness to her family and smacked him hard across the face for not walking straight, sending him crashing to the floor along with the cup of tea he had been about to offer her. He remembered her shrieks and outraged screams as his own blood mingled with the salty water gushing from his eyes. His arm had been badly sliced by a shard of mug and his mother did nothing to help her son - she stood there screeching about etiquette, manners and vanity until his father had come bursting in to see what all the fuss was about to find his own son half-drowning in scalding hot tea, blood and tears. His mother had commented afterwards that it was a miracle Draco had not scarred, and after a brief visit from the family doctor the incident was never spoken of again.

He had been nine years old at the time.

So now he lay here screaming out the loss of his father. He clutched his knees to his chest and hugged himself fiercely as his throat grew hoarse and his eyes red and swollen, and he lay there howling into his shag-pile carpet for hours. He didn't register the passing of time, so caught up was he in his loss - his exhausted mind running over scenes of him and his father like a muggle video on repeat. Some were old, blurry memories of watching Lucius study through the small hole Draco had carved in the office door. Some he remembered as clearly as crystal - his first visit to Flourish and Blotts', where his father had been instantly respected and obeyed. Draco could remember being in awe, and that was the day that he had resolved that he would grow up to be exactly like his father.

Some memories, more recent ones, were darker. There was the day that McNair had visited the mansion, and a twelve year old Draco had overheard them casually discussing the torture of a man from the department of mysteries. Later on that week, his father had learned of his eavesdropping and had punished him harshly for it.

But through the good times and the bad, Lucius Malfoy had been one of the few solid figures in his life that he respected, and he would sorely miss his father's silence. It wasn't a lack of conversation. A hush with Lucius Malfoy was not like one with anyone else - his father's quiet often conveyed more emotions than his words did, and the trained eye could see all of the slight changes in mood without words. Draco was the best-trained eye, and he prided himself on being able to read even the slightest of movements. Well that tense was soon to be in the past.

It was then Draco Malfoy decided that he would not be alone. Never again.

* * *

**A/N : I was so pleased about the load of reviews I got for the last chapter! Thanks guys!**

**Thanks to my Beta, Aki Vos. **

**Review replies**

**Yana5: Hehe not for a while yet!**

**Celestialuna: Why thankyou :)**

**yunje: here you are. Hope you enjoyed this one too **

**DesertRoseFallen: E? do you mean eeee as in the sound? I'm confused :P Haha sorry for the lack of interaction between them in this chapter! I promise I won't do it next time!**

**syrini: Thanks very much ^^**

**heartshaped-sunglasses: Ahh interesting! Thanks :) you guessed about the addiction darnit!**

**Raininglove: Haha yeah that would've been pretty funny. But Harry might've died of shock! Thankyou :D Your reviews make me giggle**

**crimsoneyes44: :D sorry for the lack of scenes this chapter! Plox? What does that mean? ^^**

**darkcat Smith: Hehe how is it a cliffhanger? More of a dramatic note like this one :)**

**Chateau-de-sang: Awh I'm sorry about the cliffhangers - I fear if I didn't have them people wouldn't keep reading! Thanks, I've swapped around some tales I've researched and created my own hierachy and process :)**

**Hyper Hippie: Well thanks :D I was wondering if I should or shouldn't do it, but I decided it was necessary, and I think it worked. How did the (slightly late) presentation go? **

**LexisHunny: Oh great! I was wondering if anyone would get the reference. High five! No :) they have no idea - he's being sneaky and keeping it a secret because he knows they'll dissaprove. **

**Dark Blue Eyed Angel: Haha excellent :) I love drawing in new people! Hope you enjoyed this chapter**

**Writing in Converse: Thankyou! Hope this was quick enough .**


	19. Chapter 19: Retreat

A/N:Sorry about the mild HarryXGinny last chapter...no more, I promise!

* * *

Quills were interesting things: fact. If one took the time to examine their quill they would become familiar with the intricacies involved in the pen. They varied in the shape of the nib to the colour, texture and pattern of the feather. Every one was different and some were breathtakingly beautiful. Draco had a collection of quills in his desk drawer, several dozen ranging from small and then to long and extravagant. His favourite, without question was an elegant silver nibbed cockatrice feather that's dark plume shimmered in even the dimmest light and glided so smoothly across the page that it was a joy to write with. His fingers brushed up it, stroking the silky soft barbs and tickling his own chin. It was comforting and had no connotations with it. Draco had bought the quill via owl from a Swedish quill maker with his extensive pocket money.

It was soothing and watching the light bounce off of it certainly slowed his brain enough so that he no longer needed to worry every second of the day about his father's welfare in Azkaban. He was already beginning to regret accepting McGonagall's offer of a few days off; submerging himself in the normality of everyday life seemed the right thing to do rather than staying cooped up in his office with dry tear tracks still running don his face.

That night, he had had a revelation that had changed him. For better or for worse, he did not yet know - that was for time to teach him. But Draco Malfoy was certain that he would not make the same mistake as his father; to a select few he would reveal himself. Not just a portion, the whole thing, for that was how one became loved, was it not? Draco was the first Malfoy in several generations who could not survive perfectly well on his own, and now his family was gone he would have to choose between being safe within himself or being vulnerable in the hands of others.

This did not mean, of course that he would change entirely. He was the Slytherin Prince and would not abandon his throne. Draco's heart was wary of the options but knew he could not survive on his own. Time and the fight that had landed him alone in his room proved it so**.** He had read enough novels to know of the importance of a human bond even though it was not a human bond he was determined to forge, but one with a decidedly darker race. Already he had unwittingly forged a relationship with his Sire but a relationship that had to be created surely would not be as pleasant as one that had been willingly created. So he not only intended to work on that one but also his connection with the illusive and mysterious Blaze.

The man had barely strung a few sentences together in all of the time Draco had known him. He was the strong and silent type one might think - but that conclusion would be too hasty and rash to hold an iota of truth. If you looked hard enough the thrum of energy and intelligence under the fragile surface was enough to fill a room. In a way, the haughty locked up power strongly reminded the Slytherin of his father in that their silences were similar.

He had found himself analysing people's interactions for a while now, and admittedly he had been surprised how much one could find out from a mere minute or so of observation.

He had discovered that Neville Longbottom was fiercely in love with Ginny Weasely, whereas she was making eyes at Potter who seemed oblivious to the situation, and wrapped up in his own world the vast majority of the time. The elder Weasel and Granger's budding romance was sickeningly obvious to anyone who wasn't blind. This was especially true for someone like Draco with a long history of analysing his father and his father's associates. For to be able to copy; one had to understand.

On a more interesting note, however he had noticed that the Head of Gryffindor had taken a distinct dislike to his Sire. On many occasions her poor attempts to conceal her abhorrence of the Defence teacher were patchy, to say the least.

Also, it had taken him a few months to realise that the female vampire in question was hopelessly in love with Blaze. Now he knew, it was obvious. But she was sneaky in the way she watched him-only looking at him when it was on the brink of being necessary and lingering a little too long when the need for a potions ingredient or the like gave her an excuse to approach him.

Draco was rather pleased with his observations, and resolved to continue his research. It would be necessary to forge relationships of his own, he reasoned. He ignored the argument that he was just being nosy and returned to petting his quill which had lain idle on his desk. It was then he remembered his father. For one in such a state as his it was normal to remember the pain dozens of times a day, just when the brain had wandered off the subject enough the pain always managed to drag the thoughts back to it. Such was the way with the worried and bereaved. Perhaps more so for those soon to be the latter Draco fathomed. He dropped his head into the crook of his arm as the tears forced their way back to his eyes.

* * *

Theodore Nott was a Slytherin, certainly. But a new breed. It seemed that the some of the latest generation had been short-changed in the malice department. Those individuals had a little too much Gryffindor in them than they would ever admit to or, Merlin forbid, Hufflepuff.

Sometimes, the actions of his fellow housemates disgusted him; and he was not spiteful enough to help a third year out of a locked cubicle, or remove a curse from an unfortunate first year. The House of Nott was one of the most respected in Great Britain and his family's extensive lands had been theirs for generations. Their wealth was only surpassed by a few choice households - the Malfoys and the Zabinis for example. By no means was he anywhere but near the very top of the social hierarchy within the school, and that was a fact that he used to his advantage whenever his extraordinary intelligence and cunning deemed it appropriate.

Blaise was in Slytherin purely because of his intelligence and will to not let down those he loved; under any circumstances. It would be an insult to his family if he were put in Hufflepuff, for example. Not that they would be at all angry of course - from an early age his successful parents had encouraged their son to be himself and not let anyone tell him to be anything else. They had brought him up well with all the love, care and cuddles he needed, unlike Draco Malfoy.

His father and Lucius Malfoy had been business associates during and after the war, and though neither approved of the other's manner and methods each had an immense amount of respect for the other. Once or twice, Theo had been placed in the manor for a play date with Draco when they were five or six and their fathers were discussing business elsewhere in the building's cavernous site.

Theodore could remember Draco as a youngster: scrawny, but every bit as beautiful and well groomed as he was today. He was quieter then, however, and spent most of his time together watching Theo intently as Theo played with a puzzle. The big grey eyes had unnerved him, but he had offered to share nonetheless and Draco had quietly accepted, but with caution. The blond was only willing to play with the toys that Theo had brought along however, and stacked up his own belongings neatly in a corner so his playmate would not be tempted to touch them.

Theo had felt the icy silence in the house as well, quite unlike the friendly warm atmosphere of his own home. It had made him feel more inclined to go easy on Malfoy in Hogwarts, despite some of his antics being strongly against Theo's morals however flexible they were. They had barely spoken in all of their years in the same house but the two respected one another as their parents had done so before them.

It was this mutual understanding, and this memory that spurred Theodore into action today. He had noticed the leader of Slytherin's slow decent into ill health, from the safety of Theo's own circle of friends and the news of Draco's father's imprisonment had spiked an urge to help. He was a kind person at heart - something his father had always been very proud of- and was determined to do right by this icy young man in spite of the wall of solitude that had gradually been erected around him over the past couple of years. Blaise had cracked it with his unexpected violent attempt at overthrowing him, and Theo considered now was the best time to inject some good will in.

His private room, assigned by the castle itself, was just a few doors along from Draco's, and one lunchtime during the other's absence from classes, he placed an item in front of Draco's door, knocked once, and walked away. Slowly, so that Draco would see it was him when he opened the door, but not so slowly to make it obvious that that was his intention. Blaise was intelligent enough to realise that confronting Malfoy head on about his problems would cause irritation and resentment from the other party; therefore it would get him nowhere. A subtle offer of kindness in a time of need would go so much further. He smiled as he walked off for a delicious slice of pumpkin pie.

* * *

The news of Lucius' death came a few days later. It was Harry's turn now to offer comfort. He felt obliged, and he felt pity.

Harry wasn't stupid by any means and he knew it was down to the bite that he was enjoying uplifting effects, both physical and emotional. It seemed horribly unfair that he was the one feeling chipper in the current situation and usually it wouldn't be like this. But Draco being an interrupted vampire (Harry had done his research himself, this time) may have added an extra something to his venom, a special quality that calmed him.

So when he wordlessly entered Malfoy's chamber and saw the blond simply lying there, eyes wide and staring into the fire, he knew immediately that words were unnecessary and simply scooped the blond up in his arms and placed his neck in the hot mouth. No pain was present, just the usual smell of vanilla and Harry had already realised that he was quickly and irreversibly addicted to this. It was ironic that such comfort could come from his arch nemesis, but as he looked down at the blond character at his neck he realised that today all the vicious emotions had leaked away from the young man, leaving just an empty shell that needed to be refilled. The sight of Malfoy still made him feel slightly sick with hatred but his "protecting people thing" trait was dominant, and more than one part of him was tired of fighting the old war between them. In the past few months he had seen other sides to Malfoy that had made him think long, hard and eventually a little differently about the Slytherin. When he was released and the blood red eyed creature simply clung to him, he did not rear back in horror but cradled it the way he had wanted to be cradled whenever a nightmare woke him or a memory of his parents jerked up a tear. Malfoy had retreated into himself, and that was just fine. He didn't particularly mind the vampire version anyway, he thought, as the smell of vanilla increased and a yellow haze enveloped the room.

He woke up a few hours later and for a moment forgot where he was. He bolted upright, disturbing the blonde figure that had been clinging to his torso and dribbling slightly on the Gryffindor emblem. Silver eyes looked at him for a moment and Harry waited for the disgust to enter their stormy depths. He braced himself for the physical and verbal abuse, but what came was undoubtedly worse: Malfoy just looked hard at him for a moment, then wriggled away and turned away from him, sinking into the bed with eyes that were so glassy and vacant he looked dead. Harry's heart stood still as the singular light of the fire lit up the scene and he panicked, unsure of what to do. The second he saw the blond's shoulders start to shake in restrained sobs of grief he knew it was time to leave. He sprung off of the bed and headed quickly for the door, turning and as an afterthought carefully transfigured Malfoy's blood-soaked robes into a pair of emerald pyjamas before quietly shutting the door behind him.

On his way back, he hastily cleaned his robes with a "scourgify" when he heard someone coming. His astronomy teacher, Mr Sabarra walked round the corner and looked at him closely, nostrils quivering ever so slightly as if he could smell the reason why Harry was out past curfew. But instead of issuing a detention, he simply said in deep tones:

"How is he?"

Harry had been too startled today to be overly shocked by the lack of punishment, so just shook his head. The other male nodded in silent reply.

"I'll go and see him." And without another word, the vampire flickered away down the corridor. A few moments later a hurricane of red landed at the foot of the stairs at the end of the hallway and hared after Blaze. Suki tripped over her robes and blurted a hasty greeting to "Sir Harry Potter" as she nearly flew past him. Drained but calm and fuzzy, Harry shrugged and continued to march until his legs carried him safely into bed.

* * *

Harry visited the vampire the next night, and the one after that, and the one after that, for it was a vampire he was visiting, and not the human. The boy had long since disappeared into the back of his own mind and allowed his subconscious to rule without question - it was a quick solution to the pain, he let the creature in him bear it for him whilst he watched events from behind his eyes like a Muggle cinema.

Embarrassingly, several events like the first bite occurred in those nights but Harry ignored it irrespective of the heat that seared in his stomach. He bore the indignity well and would continue to do so for as long as he was needed, for the vampire still clung to him desperately after each feed. Despite its animal characteristics it had some undoubtedly human elements. It whined like a dog, but it sought comfort like a human: from others. It clawed and nuzzled him like a newborn kitten, yet it stroked his mop of unruly hair in a way that was so distracted it was eerily similar to Luna's air of hesitant grace.

But it cried like nothing else. It howled like the wind, sobbed as if it was physically forcing the pain out through its' mouth and wailed like a mixture of a Banshee and a ghost. The sound was frightening and utterly heart wrenching and whenever it sounded, Harry knew to pull it tighter and to rock it without a word. The nights spent with it were tough on the young brunette but he always felt better after them - he spent his days worrying about it and was barely content unless with the beast.

So when the day came, weeks later, that Malfoy finally took over. Harry was distraught.

* * *

Malfoy was better in himself: relaxed and calm instead of the pent up, frustrated mess he had been some weeks before. His father's death still hung heavy over his heart but the thunderclouds were lifting slightly and he finally felt powerful enough to lock away the animal inside him without the whole thing being too much of a strain. After he won the battle for consciousness, he sat up in his four poster, worked out the kinks in his muscles with some massage spells and set to work on his physical appearance for the first time in weeks. He showered and washed his platinum locks giving them a good trim whilst they were wet. His clean robes smelt pleasantly masculine thanks to his house elf using his favourite scent on them, and he examined his perfectly pale face and toned muscles appreciatively in the mirror. As his eyes roamed over his new physical perfection, he heaved a deep sigh and noted that Potter had to be dealt with.

Unknown to the golden boy, Draco had witnessed all of the events that had occurred in his absence from the back of his mind in hideous Technicolor. Thankfully nothing too over the top had happened, but his inner vampire had tried to make some unsuccessful advances that he needed to clarify were not his own. Just in case the goody-two-shoes was pitiful enough to think that he was worthy of a Malfoy's attention. Draco firstly needed to (he winced) thank Potter for his help, but then make that fact quite clear.

A twinge attacked his heart as he rummaged through his quills drawer and noticed one of his father's in there - an elegant silver plumed pen that he had given his son as a congratulatory gift for learning to fly so quickly. Lucius had known that his son had had his eye on it for some time; the youngest Malfoy had made it rather obvious.

Pushing the memory aside, he seized his favourite cockatrice pen and carefully stored it in his bag. It was early January - thankfully he had missed the ordeal that was Christmas, and the garish celebration that had the gall to call itself new year. His Sire had visited him every morning and afternoon, he remembered. No matter what day, no matter what weather, no matter what mood her fledgling had been in Suki Synthra had made it on the dot with warm arms and several flasks of fake blood potion. Not that he had needed it - though he had prodded the vampire in control of him to drink the liquid hungrily. He wasn't about to admit he was feeding. Blaze however was not so easy to fool. He, too, came every day but at varying times and Draco was sure he had an inkling as to what was going on.

Draco took a last look around the room that he had not left for just over a month. He had spent his third, and most painful moon in there - and still his transformation was not complete. Blaze's analysis estimated that it would be another few until the final night would come when his own blood would win or lose against the dark venom. A final showdown; how clichéd.

Draco set off for his first lesson - Astronomy in the newly charmed tower. Unluckily, he shared that lesson with Potter, and he felt the boy's critiquing eyes on him all the bloody time they were supposed to be studying the best part of the entire subject, distracting him from the truly beautiful constellation that was his namesake. The ingenious spell showing them the sky the night before was one that Draconius remembered his father using to show him that particular set of stars many years ago.

* * *

Once again, thanks to my beta, Aki Vos

Review replies:

DesertRoseFallen: Hehe :) yum indeed! Hope you liked this, slightly too dark chap

crimsoneyes44: Mwahhaha not yet :D

Yana5: Hehe :) hope you liked this chapter

Hyper Hippie: Phew! What was the subject? Aw bless :) Me too! He is here for him in this extremely dark chapter :P Oh, I'm so sorry about the Harry Ginny thing! I hate it, it makes my stomach churn. But it is crucial to the story!

Raininglove: Hehe sorry about that, I hate it too! And haha :) I actually loled at that

Celestialuna: Me too :) sorry things didn't really look up for him this time, either!

DJFireHawk: Why thankyou :) Yeah, that is my intention, but not just yet - there's a way to go first!

SasuNaru14: Aw shucks thanks

Imarriedmalfoy: A year? Omg, it feels like a month! Thankyou for reminding me. I think celebrations are in order. E.g- chocolate. Lots and lots of it :3

Erin 2468: He says thanksyou :) he needed that

heartshaped-sunglasses: NyHAAA! Not so right this time. Actually, you kind of were. Damn!

ebonpinion: Haha I'm sure she does :P Thankyou, I'd forgotten to say why that happens! You've saved me from a plothole, thankyou


	20. Chapter 20: Yum yum

_Hogwarts._

_8pm._

Harry knocked once, twice, three times before taking a step back from the door and waiting as usual. He quickly checked his fingernails and combed a hand through his hair before the door smoothly opened on perfectly oiled hinges and Malfoy appeared, looking harried.

"Sorry Potter, but…-oomph!" The young man hadn't time to finish his sentence as he was pushed aside and his guest entered the room uninvited. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Said the wizard in a businesslike tone as he unbuttoned his collar. Malfoy didn't really want to say, and his eyes widened as Harry slid his tie off and advanced towards him. "And I thought you were smart, Malfoy."

Draco pushed the other man away from him when he got closer than his personal bubble appreciated. Not to mention his vampire instincts jolted into life at the sight of an exposed neck so close to him. "Have you lost it Potter? Get away from me!"

"I need it too, now. I expected you to have been intelligent enough to work that out." His ebony hair flicking onto a tanned neck distracted Malfoy for a moment.

"Wh- what? Hold up Potter. You cannot be serious - I have just regained my control and you expect me to throw all my progress away because you've developed some disgusting fetish? I know it's difficult for you, but stop and think, why don't you?"

"I've had over a month to think about it Malfoy, and this," Harry took a step forward. "This benefits both of us."

If Draco had not been a Malfoy, he would have spluttered. Instead, he chose to snort with derision. "And how on Earth, if I may ask, did you manage to come to that conclusion? I don't need your pity _or_ your blood, kindly refrain from offering yourself up to me on a plate in a foolhardy attempt to be a saintly Gryffindor do-gooder!"

In answer, Harry smirked straight at Malfoy's stormy grey eyes, then twisted smoothly and jumped into a backwards handspring, rotating mid-air and turning his hands to come to a graceful and perfectly balanced finish, standing straight upright two feet from where he had started. He straightened himself and brushed off his robes.

"You're not the only one this has an effect on. I'm doing better in classes, I'm winning all my Quidditch matches, and Ginny's… well…" he faltered for a moment before flashing Draco a dazzling smile.

"I'm sorry to shatter your delusions Potter, but if you consider yourself to be better looking, you're sorely mistaken; none other than a Weasel would touch you with one of Zonko's extendable wands so don't get cocky," Draco sniffed "Besides, everyone knows I'm the best looking student at this school. I'll thank you to keep that in mind."

A hearty laugh rippled from the Harry's throat, catching Draco horribly off guard. Since when had he and the sodding Boy-Who-Lived been civil to each other? Friendly even. He was about to rectify the situation when the ever-present hunger gargled a reminder at him from the depths of his stomach, making him pause a moment and think. If Potter was telling the truth, then he was no longer the sole beneficiary from their arrangement. Therefore, it was not classified as charity, nor was it done because of pity, and so it was not harmful to his reputation or pride. Moreover, Potter would be a decent ally to have once the hoards of death eaters came knocking at his door. On the whole, the pros seemed to outweigh the negative - having to pretend to like, or at least, be civil to his arch enemy seemed a small price to pay for a constant, willing, guilt-free source of blood. That sort of thing was priceless.

Malfoy was quite aware that he was convincing himself. At that moment in time, however, he couldn't care less.

**

* * *

**

Harry could almost see the cogs clicking into place as Malfoy schemed. The ex-heir was staring transfixed at a patch of stone some way to Harry's left and had been doing do for some moments, but far from tiring of the silence Harry was enjoying the blur of emotions in full view before him. Being a Gryffindor, he was oblivious to the change between them, so when Malfoy resurfaced he didn't recognise the fake grin for what it was and instead stepped a shade closer to the Slytherin Prince; conscious of the time, and that of his curfew.

Just like he had done every day for the past month or so, he produced a needle from his pocket and pricked his index finger. He smiled as the creature he had become accustomed to flickered into existence and stalked towards him.

* * *

After that night their arrangement continued as planned - Harry turned up promptly every evening, Draco drank, Harry left - nothing but a few meaningless pleasantries were exchanged, and some blood. Except they encountered a problem soon enough, as Draco had known they would. It was simply too good to be true.

Several weeks later, the Slytherin had just finished another detention with Snape (he still had several more to do as punishment for his brawl with Blaise) when a dishevelled head made its way through the throngs of students towards him before manouevering the teenager into a nook in the castle wall. Affronted, Draco resisted the urgent nudges of his assailant and did his best to stand his ground as Potter pushed him out of the way of the crowd. Malfoys were not manoeuvred, it was they who pushed.

"What is it, Potter?" He snapped, viciously flicking a stray strand of hair back from his eyes. "Not that I'm not thrilled at being seen with you in public but I am rather busy, you know." It took him a moment to realise that he wasn't being shoved into a wall, but through a door to a deserted charms classroom. Harry quickly closed the door behind him and turned to Draco.

"I need your help."

Draco coughed politely. "What was that? Sorry?"

"I said I need your help."

"You need-"

"Yes."

Draco smiled, his eyes glittering mischievously and his pearly white teeth flashing in a triumphant grin. "One more time."

"I want you to help me." Said Harry through gritted teeth. His nemesis sighed

contentedly.

"At the risk of being too clichéd, those words are music to my ears Potter. And most likely in vain - if you please, take a moment to ask yourself how improbable it is that an important wizard such as myself has time for any petty little problem your perfect little life throws your way. "

He was ignored. "I'm asking Ginny out on Saturday, after the match. I need your help to make sure it goes well." Clearly, thought Draco, the Golden Boy was uneasy about this. With his newfound skills he watched with a sadistic sense of pleasure as the Gryffindor squirmed in his seat, looking satisfyingly akin to a guilt ridden toddler. He was fidgeting with his cuffs nervously and beads of sweat were gathering on his brown. How unattractive.

"Why! You wouldn't be asking me to… help you cheat, by any chance would you? Dumbledore's star pupil?"

"I wouldn't ask-"

"Oh! I know you wouldn't unless it was life threateningly important." Draco grinned sarcastically, delight bubbling in his stomach as Harry flushed and looked at the ground, ashamed.

"I wanted it to be special. I-" He stopped simply because the other boy wouldn't be able to hear him over the sounds of his own raucous laughter. It took a few minutes, but eventually Draco calmed himself enough to breathlessly consent to helping Harry, in the form of an extra bite before the match and the two went their separate ways.

**

* * *

**

Gryffindor won, of course. The Snitch was barely relased before it was caught, and that meant that Gryffindor got the least amount of points that a victory could offer. But it was with a sense of impending doom that Malfoy received the news at the dinner table that evening. The Weaselette was nowhere to be seen, and neither was her young Quidditch captain which Draco tried to take as a positive sign, but nonetheless, Pansy's news concerning Ravenclaw's defeat wasn't met with the calm indifference he expected to experience. He retired early to his room and poured a glass of potion with a dash of rose wine for good measure.

The fireworks began as soon as Potter arrived twenty minutes earlier than their usual time. He stormed into the room, Quidditch cloak billowing out behind him in a fashion eerily reminiscent of the infamous potions professor, and huffed and puffed his way into the chair opposite Malfoy by the fire.

"I take it your encounter went well?" Draco's sarcasm was met with a withering glare, and a mumbled "shut it." Having spent the majority of the day brooding over the loss of his father, the Malfoy was in no mood for a lengthy argument so he sighed and poured his guest a glass of wine, handing it to the brunette without taking his eyes off the fire. Oddly enough, Potter needed no further interrogation as he began talking of his own accord after a few minutes of silence.

"Have you ever kissed a girl, Malfoy?" Too tipsy by this point to be taken aback by the casualness of the situation and air between them, Draco raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in his companion's direction as an answer and continued sipping his wine. "Alright. Stupid question. Did you find it was all it was cracked up to be?"

This one did surprise him. He chose his words as carefully now as he did when they were quarrelling, and spoke slowly. "No. But then again these things are too whipped up and blown out of proportion. Anything short of perfection is a crippling disappointment." Potter nodded his agreement. "Why? Was your encounter less than magical?" It was more out of politeness that the blond asked. So much so that he didn't listen to the answer preferring to instead return his eyes to the flames and listen to them crackle above the incessant undertone muttering of the boy sitting across from him.

How juvenile and petty all this seemed now compared to a year ago when his social life had been his only life, full of relished dominance and well exercised control. He had revelled in it and put his heart and soul into being every inch the ice prince of Hogwarts. Now, pretty girls and classmates who threatened his position as leader were trivial and unimportant factors in his life. It was too early to say which he preferred.

It was evident from Potter's body language that recounting his experience with the orange one earlier that day was steadily worsening his mood and he could sense the saga drawing to a close.

"….so then she told me to piss off, and I did." The seeker pouted slightly and looked terribly sorry for himself, prompting the Slytherin to roll his eyes and set his glass down forcefully, cracking the crystal slightly with his vampirian strength.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, get a grip. Sitting here listening to you whining for goodness knows how long is like being at a goblin poetry recital. If I wasn't already half dead rest assured, after five minutes of your moaning I would be." His food looked slightly put out before sighing and unbuttoning his collar.

That feed, he recalled later, was extremely satisfying. He made a mental note to get Potter angry before a bite again.

**

* * *

**

"I must say Draco, your manner is exasperating to say the least."

Malfoy smirked as his eyes scanned a brand new potions textbook. "Spare me your haughty drunken monotones Nott, and say what you mean."

"Fine!" Theodore slurred, raking a hand through dark hair. "You're being a prick."

The two had been friendly ever since Theodore's welcome gifts of a decent wine and some pork some while before, and since then they had become partners for intellectual activities such as debating and poring over ancient tomes in search of snippets that could be of interest to either party. With a bottle of chardonay, of course. It was a relief to both of them to be in company that could reply in more than one syllable, each mostly being guarded by Slytherin henchmen rather than being with others such as themselves. It was with Nott that he walked with to many of his lessons, and it was also with him that he sat, Crabbe and Goyle to their right and Nott's two large beasts to their left. However, Draco was wary of becoming too chummy with the fellow Slytherin: although uncommonly kind, Theodore not was also unbearably clever - it was only a matter of time before his suspicions formed foundations and he discovered Draco's secret. Therefore the pair's relationship fluctuated from somewhat close to very distant in a matter of hours. It was in the former of these two stages that the men currently found themselves, sipping expensive wine in Nott's private room in the dungeons.

"It says here that a new strand of monkshood can be used as a catalyst in polyjuice potion sequences, shortening them by half a month."

"Draco! I'm insulting you, the least you can do is pay attention."

"I was expecting something more refined than 'prick' if I'm honest."

"Upper class prick? Will that do?"

"Not what I meant, but better."

In a misjudged attempt at playfully throwing a scrunched up ball of paper at the blonde, a rather inebriated Theo managed to trip over his own Persian rug and chuck his wine over an unimpressed Draco whilst clutching his paper ball like it would spill. For a moment he looked dazedly at the consequences of his mistake, then collapsed into half-drunk laughter as his companion sat dripping in an antique armchair. It was at that moment that they heard a knocking outside through their ajar door and Nott composed himself to check the stone entrance hall to the private rooms. He was beaten there by a suddenly very alert Malfoy who dashed out of the now open door whilst still in the process of peeling off a red shirt.

Harry Potter was across the Hall, hand frozen in the act of knocking when the very man he'd come to see appeared, shirtless and with red liquid dripping from his hair with a giggling, red stained Theodore

Nott peering round the door in his wake.

"Harry!" Theo hollered jovially, waving scrunched up paper at the stock-still figure twenty feet from him. "Come and join us! Draco and I were just-" The door was calmly shut in his face by a stony faced Malfoy, who then proceeded to bustle Harry into his own quarters and push him into a chair.

"It's not what it looks like. It's wine." He explained brusquely, spelling away the mess and summoning an elf to bring him a clean shirt. Scourgify made clothes abominably starchy.

Still dazed, and a tad drunk from the fire whisky Ron had smuggled in earlier, Harry nodded vaguely and tried to recover being taken in by the whirlwind that was Malfoy. The silence stretched a little long as Malfoy changed quickly and settled into his seat opposite Harry, eager to move the conversation along so the Gryffindor wouldn't ask any questions about Nott. Or why he'd been with him. Or why he'd been shirtless.

"How are you and Ginny?"

Still too out of it to recognise that Draco hadn't referred to her as a weasel, Harry slumped in his seat and shrugged.

"Well how far did you get?"

"What?"

"Did you just kiss her or…?" The blond registered the intoxicated Harry seemed

disgusted: he sat bolt upright in his chair and began to splutter indignantly, so Malfoy righted his mistake: "Oh, right. Forgot you were a righteous Gryffindor. But there must be something else Potter. As a connoisseur of your reactions for a number of years, I can tell there's more than just a dull snog playing on your drunken little mind right now."

Harry flushed, but not angrily. "Are you hungry?"

"Stop trying to change the subject, Potter."

"But are you?"

"No, as it happens. You are here hours before our usual."

After a few second's careful study, Harry grinned mischievously and produced his needle from his cloak pocket. "Potter, what are you-?"

"Bye-bye Draco," Harry giggled, the room spinning a little when he stood up sharply and backed away. He stabbed his index finger a little more vigorously than he intended, and blood began to pour out of the deep scratch, but no attention was paid it as the vampire was suddenly in front of him, red eyed and hungry. The Gryffindor shoved his finger into his mouth and sucked most of the blood away before wiping the digit on his Quidditch robes and waiting, but not for long. Feverishly, the demon crushed his lips to Harry's, forcing it's tongue into his mouth to taste the blood. Delicate pale hands raked through his hair, sending sparks travel down his spine and heat to settle within him.

From inside the vampire, Draco Malfoy watched the proceedings with an increasingly horrified expression. He shook himself from his stunned stupor and thrashed around, trying to regain control. It was like having a tug of war inside your own mind. The consciousness the two entities fought over was ever- changing and malleable, a thick silver liquid like egg white. Pull too hard and it would dissipate, pull too little and it would stretch away. It was difficult to gain a proper hold but Draco was too angry to lose. He soon regained control of his legs, feeling them clammy beneath thick black slacks. It took a moment for him to stabilise them - they were wobbling like jelly and weak at the knees, cold, goose-pimpled skin with hot blood rushing under the parchment-white skin. Next his torso came back to him, his heart pounding back into life as he writhed against the figure pressed up against the wall. It seemed to be beating too fast, however; it beat so rapidly against his ribcage as Draco fought for control of his arms and head. The warm sensation of control crept through him as blue blood hacked away at the veins clogged with sticky black venom, power coming rushing back to his limbs with every fervent beat. Soon enough, it was him who was fervently searching for the blood. Until long after the last traces had been drunk

* * *

Firstly: 150 reviews! Thank you all so much, this is the most I've ever had by long way!

Secondly:Eek! Sorry it took so long! I've been weighed down with exams but now I'm finally free I'll get this story finished by the end of August, promise.

Thirdly:

Yana5: Thankyou :)

Celestialuna: Ta ^^ it's always nice to hear so

DesertRoseFallen: Thankyou! Sorry it took so long!

RainingLove: Awh! It took me a few minutes to figure out that ^w^ was a vampire :) hehee!

crimsoneyes44: I thought it would be better if it took them a while, because when I read fics I always think they get together far too fast so it's unrealistic?

ebonpinion: Thanks! He's needed to for a long time :3

HyperHippie: Well thanks :) it came to me after watching one of the movies for inspiration :3 And thanks again - some people are complaining their relationship is moving too slowly so it's nice to hear otherewise. Aha he does, never fear! And I hope I have sated your thirst for another favourite Slytherin :D I like drunk Theo. The powerpoint sounds amazing! Better than the dull exams I just finished. Hope you liked this chapter!

chinchan33: not yet :)

Writing in Converse: I know :( it took me a while to get it depressing enough! Haha I'll take that hint :3

Nikotehfox: AGREED :)


	21. Chapter 21:Price of anger

By no means was it his fault. Truly it wasn't. Rationally speaking, he hadn't drunk for a considerable amount of time and therefore the blame lay squarely on Potter's shoulders. Thankfully, the other man had not been aware that Draco had been "in the driving seat" when the majority of the event occurred because the Slytherin hadn't opened his eyes until the former had departed. A stroke of good luck?

It was an embarrassing situation, certainly. But not one that couldn't be contained if he played his cards right. All it would take was a few words to ensure Potter's mouth was firmly shut. He lounged back in his Italian leather chair and chewed his lip thoughtfully; a carefully chosen sentence should suffice. One that made sure Potter saw himself as the villain, and that by keeping quiet he could prevent causing any further harm to Draco's fragile mental state, particularly so soon after his father's death. The blond smirked. That would hit Potter where it hurt, and hopefully that particular stab of guilt would smart for a good few months or so.

In comparison to Harry, Draco wasn't fretting much about the events and didn't spare the subject any more of his valuable time than was necessary - in fact, he committed his plan to memory and got on with things immediately. This was largely due to the fact that he had been in many situations like this in the past. Slytherins were rather more 'emotionally mature' than other houses and several of the high ranking Slytherin would be seeing more than several people at a time.

This was not the case with the faithful Gryffindors, being prone to guilt as they were. Moreover the ease with which strong bonds with the housemates could be formed encouraged long lasting, faithful relationships. Most of the time.

Harry and Ginny's fierce spat was by now common knowledge among the Gryffindors, and more or less the entire school. Ron was dealing with the situation remarkably well, considering himself lucky that it had ended before it had really began and he no longer had to deal with such an awkward situation. Also, now he could thump anyone who hurt his little sister without fearing the repercussions.

The group sat in a circle around the fire, Ginny appearing to be reading a textbook with a ferocious scowl on her face. She didn't seem to care that the book was upside down, instead being preoccupied with creaking the book's spine in an irritating fashion every few seconds.

Far from retaliating, Harry was looking into the dying fire embers anxiously, not particularly tuned into the world outside his own intense thoughts. This further irked Ginny, who began creaking the book spine more and more frequently until Parvati Patil, who was immersed in a last minute potions essay, told her to shut it. No pun intended. The youngest Weasley marched off fuming, leaving a comfortable seat by the fire for Hermione to slide into. She watched absent mindedly as Neville stumbled past in pursuit of the retreating red-haired-form before curling her toes underneath her and embracing the warmth of the fire.

The flames held no such welcome for Harry. They spat at him, disgusted as he nursed guilt inside him, allowing it to swell like a bloated Flobberworm. He fed it with a steady trickle of self hatred, doubt, and endless reasons as to why Draco didn't need this kind of stress right now -the main one being his late father. The wizard groaned inwardly. Despite his half drunken state and pure curiosity, he had many times come to the conclusion that his actions were inexcusable and required some sort of apology. He couldn't deny that he had felt something, a momentary spark, but he was of course willing to put that aside considering that there was someone much more emotionally delicate than himself at stake here. So he thought.

Harry was labouring under the misapprehension that it was the vampire's embrace he had experienced throughout the event. Not that of the human. Nonetheless he had an inkling that Draco would have witnessed the event and been distressed by it, and therefore he considered himself in the wrong. He gave his watch a glance and sprung from his seat on the floor, fleeing out of the portrait hole and bolting down the staircase as fast as he could go. He was thirty minutes later than his usual time, and by the time he got there, he was forty. Apologies streamed through his mouth as he entered Draco's room without knocking and crashed himself down in the leather armchair opposite the blond.

The sad-looking blond was eyeing him dubiously over a glass of Chardonnay and said had come to apologise but was not yet ready to do so, instead choosing to babble whilst the blank look he was receiving increased his manic rate of speech.

"Beastiality much, Potter?" He interrupted. His companion spluttered, tongue choking on a sentence. "What were you thinking?" Said Draco contemptuously. "A vampire? Just to satisfy your sad curiosity. Some Gryffindor." He executed a well rehearsed snort, hoping to seem as if he were covering his wounds with anger. He squeezed the bridge of his nose to disguise the glance he sent at Potter. The young man looked horror struck, no - guilt stricken - back ramrod straight and eyes wide and searching with his mouth turned down in an unhappy curve.

"Draco, I-"

"You knew I wouldn't comply, so you tried the vampire instead! How low will you go, Potter? Cheating in Quidditch matches, lying to your friends and now this?" Some part of his brain murmured quietly that perhaps he was milking it a bit too much now, but he chose to ignore it. "Why couldn't you experiment on someone else? A willing housemate rather than someone dealing with grief such as mine." He rose theatrically from his worn chair, the other occupant of the room following suit. The Malfoy was about to continue his lecture when Harry muttered an excuse towards his own scruffy trainers and made to leave. He halted at the doorway to turn back, just for a second. He looked straight at Draco, then he was gone.

* * *

Oh, how Draco regretted his theatrics. They had cost him a good night's sleep - not through guilt but through the rumbling of his bloodthirsty stomach denying him rest. Thus, he was tetchy and irritable all the next day, snapping at Crabbe and Goyle and nearly accidentally stabbing a simpering Pansy in the eye with a meat knife over breakfast. ' _Stupid bink, should have just stabbed her_,' he thought, scrutinizing his reflection in the less lethal spoon now forced upon him. And then, '_Look at the state of my hair_.'

This jumpy train of thought continued until he was rudely interrupted during potions when a scrunched up scrap of paper fell neatly into a small cranny in the wood of his desk. Though hungry, he was by no means stupid, and thus was able to deduce the culprit without even opening the note. The thrower must've had a decent knowledge of the classroom and of all the slightly different desks, so it couldn't have been one of the Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws who had been merged with their class at the beginning of the year. They must have had excellent aim - if the paper was charmed he would've heard the telltale hum as it whizzed past his ear -so better than excellent. Faultless. That would've come from hours practicing ball skills, a rigorous training regime demanding perfection. One that would have to take place nearly all of the time, so it had to be in school, therefore it had to be Quidditch. Only three players of which resided in the room with him.

Draco sighed, glaring at the two Slytherin chasers in front of him as though it were their fault that Potter annoyed him so. He dug the parchment from his desk and smoothed it out, tutting inwardly at the dreadful handwriting scrawled in smudged ink. He responded to the pathetic apology (bearing in mind his rumbling stomach) with:

"You know already what you can do to make it up to me."

He slipped it into the fool's bag as the students flocked to the door, making sure to wipe the surplus ink from the note onto Potter's back in the process. Served him right for contacting him in public - he'd like to see Potter try to banish the permanent Peruvian ink. It had hilarious counter spells dissolved into it's depths. Sure enough, when Harry turned up that night for the usual feed he had several plasters on the backs of his hands and Draco didn't bother disguising his mirth.

* * *

There were a few blissful weeks of near-normality before things took a turn for the worse.

Blaise Zabini was feeling overshadowed and outdone. Malfoy got all the women, all the attention, all the best seats in classes and ate first on the Slytherin table. His attempt at overthrowing the top dog had failed miserably, but he was far from done. It was arguable that fate had a part to play when Blaise chose to strike, it was on the day of the moon cycle where Draco was at his weakest, recovering from a particularly nasty transformation the night before. It truly was a fiendishly simple plan, one that even Draco himself would have appreciated were he not the victim.

They were in Defence Against the Dark Arts at the time, scribbling down notes on the two caged manticores from a safe distance. Suki Synthra toed the line between her students and the wrought iron bars, stuttering her way through the describing passage in a textbook until it came to teaching the necessary spell, which was when Blaise struck. Instead of making the correct hand movements as demonstrated, he quietly cast Alohamora amongst the cries of the defensive spell sounding from the other students. The beasts didn't react at once. No one but Blaise saw the small charm wriggle into the padlock, and none but the manticores' ears picked up the faint click of the catch. They sat, blunt eyes tracking the teacher until her back was turned; at which point all havoc broke loose. They flew through the cage door, one pouncing on the teacher, slicing her with razor sharp claws whilst it screamed with its human head - the shrill sound echoed throughout the stone room and extracted similar sounds from both genders of the teenagers. It's ally made light work of one, two, three desks before it managed to lock it's teeth around the arm of an unfortunate Slytherin.

Blaise seized his chance. When Draco rushed forwards to prize the animal off of his teacher, he cast a freezing spell upon his rival, stilling him in an aggressive stance. Hermione quickly disabled the second manticore, utilizing the same immobilizing spell Neville fell prey to years before, while a hyperventilating Suki managed to wriggle out from underneath the first creature long enough to use the curse she'd been just teaching her class.

The upshot of the bedlam was that Dumbledore was summoned and Draco blamed for the entire incident. Of course, Dumbledore was aware that Draco had been framed considering the close bond he held with the subject teacher- Blaise Zabini's claims were that Draco had held a grudge against the new Professor because she had received the position in the stead of the Slytherin's beloved Potion's Master, and had therefore been keen to get her fired.

It was unlike Dumbledore to do so, but he did not punish Blaise. He had no trick up his sleeve that allowed him to both reveal Draco and Miss Synthra's bond and keep the vampires free from suspicion, and so Draco was left to stew, blamed for the entire event and outwitted by the son of his Father's old business associate. Humiliated, thirsty and in a heap of trouble it did not take more than a few hours for Draco to publicly attack Blaise in the hallway, pounding the other boy to mincemeat until Professor Flitwick levitated the pair apart; Draco still snarling in mid air. He soon found himself in Dumbledore's office for the second time that day.

But this time he was in deeper than he thought.

"Forgive me my boy, but is it not March twenty-sixth?"

Draco nodded sullenly. It wasn't hard to sense that there was a sombre undertone

beneath the surface of this light hearted conversation.

"Sherbert Lemon? Suit yourself." The elderly man popped one into his own wizened old mouth and sucked, enjoying the tingling in his sinuses. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr Malfoy, but was yesterday not your transformation day? " Another nod. "So, if we are to trust the information books and heresay offer, with such a feeble food source - no offense intended to Miss Synthra of course - such as the blood potions, you should be…bed ridden? Is that not correct?"

A very dark, very heavy stone dropped straight to the pit of the young man's stomach. Oh, Merlin. Gods no.

"So, Draco. That would mean you are feeding, would it not?" The headmaster surveyed him over half moon spectacles. " No need to tell me who from. I'm sure Mr Potter will give other necessary information when I ask him over tea this evening. After I've had him thoroughly checked over by Madam Pomfrey of course. I must say Draco, I am extremely disappointed in both of you. Your actions have fallen far short of my expectations. But I am more disappointed with the situation this now brings us to. You must know that whatever the circumstances I will not tolerate harm coming to my students."

"Whilst that includes Mr Potter, it also includes you Draco**." **Dumbldore's voice lowered to a calmed nurturing state as the glory ridden wizard sat on the edge of his mahogany desk and spoke to the undead slowly and carefully. "I have taken the liberty of suggesting to your mentors that a stint in a safe holding away from the castle may be of use during the final three moons of your process. Of course, it's location will be kept secret, and a few order members will be nearby should the three of you be in need of assistance. I will to my utmost to ensure that no harm comes to you my boy."

He turned and began to croon at the majestic phoenix perched on his desk. "I suggest you go and pack. Good day, Draco."

* * *

**Once again, thanks to my Beta, Aki Vos. **

Yana5: But things are never so simple :D

Celestialuna: why thanks

heartshaped-sunglasses: sudden, maybe. But not the be all and end all - there's still a ways to go :D

Nickyninedoors99: I'm glad you like it :) Im thinking of starting another

twilightserius:Muahaha not necessarily!

RainingLove: Haha im very glad someone noticed the title :D and thanks very much I hope you enjoyed this one too despite the lack of interaction

HyperHippie: I'm onto Biology next year too - hopefully by my eighteenth birthday I shall have passed all my exams in it :D :D movement? Fun times. Ooh good :) im glad of that and of your fondness of Theo. In every other fic he's either been a wuss or an insufferable meanie, so I adopted him ;) And nononoo! You weren't reading too much into it at all! I'm glad at least one person picked up on that. He's not fed off anyone else. YET. Spoiler over :3 And seriously, don't worry about review length. I adore extra long reviews like yours!

DesertRoseFallen: I like that term :) can I use it? And thanks so much

PlayfulSyph: Awh why thankyou! It's always nice to hear it :D

jo: I definitely did :D eight pm sharp each evening? I didn't think I'd ever imagine HP in a minubus...

ebonpinion: Why thanks :) I didn't want to make it soppy ^^


	22. Chapter 22: Blossoming bruises

A week later it was raining hard at midnight. Draco Malfoy sat cold and tired on the foot of his bed, waiting for the chimes on his grandfather clock to ring out whilst he let dark-rimmed eyes roam around his bedroom for the last time - the Persian rugs, his quill collection, his books - none of it was coming with him. He felt like a dead Egyptian Pharaoh surrounded with all these beautiful possesions but no way of taking with him into the next life. For it would be a new life for him, away from the castle where he had grown up; the place that was dearer to him than the cavernous mansion in which he had spent his earlier years. The walls of this cold fortress had matured him far more than any amount of musty books and pretentious culture had or ever could.

The twelfth toll came and went, echoing like the judgement toll around the room. With a sigh he heaved himself off of the four poster and dragged his white limbs to the door, groaning with the effort. He had been locked up in here a week without food and by Merlin was he feeling the strain. With legs like lead and a mind unable to focus for long, the lack of blood in his stomach was killing him slowly, he was sure of it. Suki's potions were of even less use now than they were when he was drinking from them to disguise his other food supply. Speaking of food supply, he wondered idly where Potter was now and if he was in as much trouble from Dumbledore as he was. He was surprised when he had enough energy to sneer contemptuously. No, of course the Golden Boy wasn't. He was after all, the old fool's pride and joy. A twitch of his wrist charmed his trunks to flow in an orderly fashion out of the door, and with one last wistful look around he shut his door for the last time.

The odd procession slunk towards the entrance hall with an air of reluctance. Even the trunks bobbed along low, scraping their corners against flagstones like fingers struggling for purchase. Draco himself didn't bother to correct them, though his brain registered the damage. It also warned him he was being followed, but he took no notice of that either. Nonetheless, he was unsurprised when Blaise Zabini appeared in front of him, blocking his exit of the dungeons. The light from the torches shadowed the other boy's face eerily, and the darkness flowed around his face when he spoke gleefully.

"I knew you'd get expelled! I knew it!"

The Malfoy had just enough spark in him to fix his posture into one suitable for conversing with those inferior to him, though his voice was gravely and gave away his fatigue. " Don't flatter yourself, Zabini, this wasn't you."

"What do you mean? Of course it was me."

"Hardly. I think you'll find it was Potter who got me in the end. I think you'll agree that was inevitable - arch enemies and whatnot."

"What? No!"

"Yes. It seems I'm not the only one outdone by Potter's antics."

"That's not fair!" Blaise screeched. "You were mine! Mine!"

It took a second, but part of Draco noticed, then. A sliver of him understood when he looked at the other Slytherin's face in the firelight, the sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, the twitching hand and the hunched back. The skeletal boy looked harried and desperate - desperate to be noticed. Not just by Draco, but by everyone or anyone. The beginnings of madness in his eyes were all down to the shadow he strived under, the darkness Draco himself cast. The shadow fell over all the Slytherins, of course, but Blaise was stuck in the blackest part of it where no one else was standing, the loneliest part where darkness was seeping into his mind like hot blood into a dry sponge.

It was how Draco had looked all those years ago when he had struggled to get by, when he had been fighting tooth and nail against his own shadow and when he had suffered the consequences. He saw the boy's sallow complexion a few feet from him in his mother's gilded mirror at the mansion, the hunched posture reflected in the disappointment in his father's eyes.

And he wondered if Potter had pitied him as he did Blaise now.

It was obvious Blaise needed to find his own niche to live in instead of trying to squeeze into a space already taken. His very own spot where he could cast a shadow on others as Draco had done, but Draco also knew that it was something that would take time and something that was difficult to do. So instead of toppling the child in front of him like he could have done with six words, he replaced them with a few choice words of his own.

"Grow up."

And with that, he less than gracefully struggled past a fuming Zabini and round the corner into the entrance Hall. He was a few steps out into the open, under the towering stone arches of Hogwarts when the curse hit him square in the back and he crumpled to the marble floor. Blaise was in the doorway behind him, angry screeches tearing from his lips like a Banshee, echoing off of the walls and going straight through him. Draco tried to lift himself up, but the curse had drained the last of his energy and his shaky arms gave up the effort. He rolled onto his back to stare upwards at the enchanted ceiling and waited for the blows to come.

And come they did. Outraged at the unresponsiveness of his victim Blaise flung himself at an unmoving Draco, pounding his fists into soft white skin until angry blue bruises blossomed on cheeks and blood trickled from a perfect mouth. And still, Blaise was being ignored, his target instead choosing to stare solemnly up at an enchanted sky of prim little stars. The fury ran deeper and he increased the intensity of his blows until Draco choked on the liquid now streaming from his lips and lurched onto his side away from the attacks. Wand lying forgotten, Blaise commanded Draco to fight back but was met with silence. The blond was coughing up thick strands, now, eyes puffy and half-lidded. Blaise seized his wand and drew his arm back.

"Stupefy!"

A spell errupted from nowhere and slammed into Blaise, propelling him off of Draco and sending him skimming into a stone wall where he slumped and lay still. It was silent for a heartbeat, and Draco waited. No one appeared, but footsteps sounded and he sluggishly pushed himself up, broken ribs complaining and blood inhibiting his breathing. The pain was bad, but he had had worse. He summoned the energy over a few seconds to accio a trunk to him, and he used that to heave himself upright. All the while the footsteps got louder and louder, but still no sign of anyone. Draco blinked his bruised lids and warily dragged his eyes around the room. The footsteps came closer and closer, changing from stone to marble. Thirty feet away.

Deep down he had known Blaise hadn't been a serious threat, but this could be. The

young Malfoy reached for his wand inside his robes. The steps continued. Twenty

feet.

Draco tried to speak, but just coughed up gunk. He wiped the liquid away with his cloak and tried to focus despite the fog inside his head and the pounding in his ears. Ten feet.

Draco paused, bracing himself. Just as he was about to curse the area in front of him, Potter appeared as though walking through a waterfall, and Draco's legs nearly buckled with relief.

"Potter!" He croaked. "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

His aid grinned. "At least I didn't punch the living daylights out of you. Here." He muttured a charm and Draco's throat cleared of blood, letting him heave in a few breaths of icy air. Moments later, when the blond had recovered his voice again, he nodded in the unconscious Blaise's direction.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I didn't like seeing someone else do to you what I want to do to you."

"Punch the living-?"

"Exactly."

Normally, Draco would have done something about Potter winking at him, but in the circumstances he let it slide, instead mopping up various cuts on his face with the edge of his sleeve. "You took your time. Might have saved me a few of these."

"I'm sorry, I just got back from Dumbledore telling me what…" here he stopped, suddenly nervous and humble "... what's going to happen. I was on my way to see you. You look terrible."

"You don't say." Draco was distracted at the specks of blood on floor when he realised.

"Why couldn't I see you? More to the point, why couldn't Blaise see you?"

Harry looked sheepish, and jerked his right hand in response. A ball of material was

clutched there, silvery folds draped on the ground like solid moonlight.

"I should have guessed." Draco coughed. There was a long moment of silence.

"Listen, Malfoy. I really think I should apologise-"

"No. You shouldn't." Draco sucked in a breath for something he'd needed to say for a

long time, and he figured it was now or never. Might as well be grown up about it.

"It's my fault. I've taken advantage of your Gryffindor nobility and caused more than a bit of trouble, and therefore I would like to offer an apology." He pursed his mouth and clenched his stomach in case it turned with disgust, and he got ready to do something he'd promised himself he would never do again as long as he lived.

He extended his hand to his shadower, and Harry took it without hesitating. As they shook, he could feel the vampire inside him cry out and long for the heat of the blood in Potter. The feeling tugged at his stomach and sent sparks fizzling down his back. The two let go of each others hands and coughed awkwardly.

Somewhere, a clock chimed. Time to go.

"Goodbye, Harry." He nodded once at the brunette.

"Goodbye Draco."

Harry watched as his equal stepped out into the rain with a procession of cases following close behind him. Harry watched as his friend walked away into the storm.

A/N : This is NOT THE END

* * *

**Thanks to SunflowerNightmares for the help **

**This chapters not beta-d, so apologies for any mistakes!**

NickyNineDoors99: Nope, not a vamp,werewolf or (sadly) veela. There's a catch though, with Harry this time.

HyperHippie: Thanks :) I think Theo's done for this story but he'll be inthe next one, I promise! And you know Harry will find a way soon enough ;) I just got my results today and will defo be doing biology next year ^^

Yana5: hehe too bad :)

Celestialuna: Thanks very much :D

PrettyYaoiBoyz: Sorry this took so long there was a problem with my beta reader!

jo: hope you enjoyed this one!

Randomclaw: your friend sent you it? that's awesome :) I'm very flattered! Thank you so much for reading it ^^ cos Draco doesn't release any venom- mainly because he's only a teen vamp. hope that clears it up

SunflowerNightmares: Firstly, once again thanks for all your help :) Aww give them a chance they're not bad! Thankyou, I like that you find it addictive :D Ah Ron and Hermy will reappear once the distance between Harry and Draco becomes established. I'm sure they'll be very forgiving as usual! Ahh please don't fret I adore long reviews

RainingLove: Heh thanks I really enjoyed writing that scene.

littlesprout: Thanks very much! Sorry it took so long

ebonpinion: Ohh Blaise isn't finished being slightly deranged yet :D

PlayfulSyph: I adore that it makes you happy thank you for saying so ^^

Yuffie's Ninja Insanity: I'm extremely flattered! Thank you so much your comment really did mean alot to me. Hehe not sure about the Twilight bit though :)


	23. Chapter 23: Craving sweeties

Week 1 in the absence of Draco Malfoy.

The storm had continued all night. It had tipped its contents over the castle and surrounding landscape, ruffling the feathers of even the most weather hardened carrier owls. In all the dormitories less expensive owls hooted in their cages and other pets mewled in fear when thunder rolled somewhere overhead and the torrents of rain attacked the castle. It continued for some days, including Friday morning when Harry Potter sat eating hot buttered toast wedged up against the Gryffindor table in between Ron and Hermione.

Ron was sitting on a bit of his cloak and so he was leaning alarmingly to one side, melted butter dribbling from his hand down his sleeve in a sticky, uncomfortable sort of way. Hermione had her nose in a book and Seamus Finnegan a few seats down was causing a ruckus by wrestling a rather ugly cat away from the kippers his mother had sent him.

Though the trio tried to disguise it, every couple of minutes one or another of them glanced towards an empty space at the Slytherin table. Loyal sentries that they were, Crabbe and Goyle had maintained their routine (despite the absence of their master) so precisely that they had left a Malfoy sized space in between them every day at breakfast for over a week. On Thursday a pushy fourth year had tried to sit in the gap and had escaped with a black eye for his trouble.

They were not the only ones missing the routine of Draco. Harry, though slightly ashamed to admit it, was finding his evenings difficult to fill without his usual eight o'clock appointments and was resorting to catching up on Potions work with Hermione. A drastic action, maybe but considerably better than playing Ginny at her rather nasty new game of gobstones where the loser got doused in foul smelling pus.

It wasn't only the evenings that were difficult to fill. Harry missed the tussles in the corridors, the snide comments in classrooms and most of all he missed the spark of excitement he felt in his gut every time he saw a flash of platinum hair - life was never dull when Draco Malfoy was around.

So when a phoenix drifted down from the sky and onto the Gryffindor table, Harry was very shocked indeed. The majestic bird was red as blood with golden highlighted wisps in its feathers. It stuck out its leg at Harry, knocking aside a few pastry dished in the process whilst sky blue eyes bored into green as it waited impatiently for Harry to remove the scroll.

He did so hastily, pausing only to undo the blade of grass around the parchment.

* * *

Harry Potter,

If I had another option, rest assured I would not bother you with such a request as this, but unfortunately I have neglected to pack enough underwear. Please send some back with Blaze here.

Regards,

Draconius Malfoy

* * *

Draco,

I have done so. If in future you want anything else, please feel free to not ask me. Never. Going through your underwear drawer wasn't how I would choose to spend a Saturday morning.

Harry

* * *

Harry Potter

Had I remembered your mental capacity, I would have given more explicit instructions. When I said send some underwear back with Blaze, I did not mean tie some of my best silk boxers onto your ex- teachers leg with an old bit of string and make him fly off with them in full view of the entire school. He has since refused to deliver any of my mail, hence the more discreet tawny owl today. Neither will he accept any of my apologies, even when I try and tempt him with bagels. I hold you solely responsible.

To make up for it I suggest you do me the favour of telling Crabbe and Goyle that I won't be back for several weeks. They are rather predictable creatures, and you will be able to find them at breakfast at 7:30-7:56, then in the Slytherin common room until lessons start. Same with dinner. It's not advisable to try and talk to them before or during mealtimes as it's a rather sickening sight. After mealtimes they are more subdued - I suggest you talk to them then. They will not ask you any questions as to how you got this information so no need to fabricate.

Draco Malfoy

* * *

Draco

Well how else was I supposed to do it? I don't appreciate the dead mouse in that envelope by the way, the owl delivering it had been pecking at it during the flight. And I would have preferred if you had told me before that phoenix was my astronomy teacher, itmight have been helpful. I did wonder why he was called Blaze. I had no idea that vampires can be animagi.

Crabbe and Goyle have been told. You were right about not being near them at mealtimes, I got beef in my hair.

Harry

P.S Is Miss Synthra an animagi as well? Just in case, you know.

* * *

Harry P.

I wont bother trying to explain how a normal person would have done it, it will do no good. That mouse wasn't put in there intentionally and I would be much obliged if you would send it back with your next letter, thanks. And if you could manage it some of those blood bites from Hogsmeade. Thanks.

Thank you for letting Crabbe and Goyle know. If I could ask another favour? If my predictions are correct, Blaise Zabini will be making a move on the top Slytherin spot in my absence and I want you to hinder his efforts in every way possible. I expect Weasley standard pranks and humiliations until my return.

Draco

P.S Yes, Suki is also an animagus. But I'm not telling you what she transforms into, if you had half a brain you would have figured it out already. I'm sure your Granger knows.

* * *

Draco

I have posted the mouse back in a leather glove I found in your room. The mouse has gone a little mouldy- do I want to know what you need it for? And I got half an ounce of the blood things for you. You owe me six knuts.

Blaise has been in the hospital wing for three days with tentacles for fingers. George suggested that I use one of their new pellets, the ones that aren't even out on the market yet. They are delighted to have obtained a new test subject, and I'm enjoying having someone to terrorize once again.

Professor Trelawney had a premonition in the middle of dinner the other day. It was pretty freaky, she started rolling around on the floor and frothing at the mouth. Here is one of Colin Creevey's photographs of the event. If you wait a few seconds you can see Crabbe and Goyle in the background.

Harry

P.S Hermione won't tell me and Ron doesn't have a clue. Can you give me a hint?

P.P.S What's the safeholding like?

* * *

Harry

Why in Merlin's name were you in my room? Just because I am absent doesn't mean that you have the run of Hogwarts. I hope the trap got you. And no, you don't want to know about the mouse but send another glove. And thanks a lot for being stingy with the blood bites. It's freezing here and there isn't much food. I hope you're happy knowing that your stinginess keeps me awake at night - hunger pains stop me sleeping.

I do hope you're not expecting any sort of praise for Blaise. But the test subject idea wasn't too bad. Please keep me posted on Blaise related events, it's good to maintain a certain amount of knowledge even when absent. We can't get papers here either, so if you could let me know if anything interesting happens?

I got your photograph of Trewlaney. However entertaining, don't you think actually telling me what the prediction was would have been a good idea to throw into that story? Tell Crabbe to cut his hair.

Draco

P.S You're pathetic. Hint: to quote hart "…some animagus forms are without gender, taking both male and female characteristics of a species…."

P.P.S It's not a safeholding. It's a fucking cave.

* * *

Draco

Well I had to go into your room. No one else would have gloves that owls couldn't peck through. Dragonhide? Really? You snob. And yes, your paranoid trap did get me. That's going to scar, bastard.

Blaise is currently sporting boils that flash red and then gold. I thought Gryffindor colours would be the most humiliating for a Slytherin such as himself. Madam Pomfrey's getting annoyed with him because he comes to the wing so often. And I've enclosed more blood bites. You now owe me a sickle and six knuts.

Trewlaney said something about the darkness but we couldn't really hear because she was choking on her own spit.

What do you mean it's a cave? As in, a real stone cave in the mountains or a cave by your standards, e.g a four star hotel?

Harry

P.S That's not a clue.

* * *

Harry

It's not my fault I can afford the finer things in life. And about the trap - I'm a Slytherin, what did you expect?

Please greatly increase the supply of blood bites. My final moon is getting closer and I'm feeling awful. I even ate an animal yesterday, I was that desperate. And speaking of desperate, yes, it is a cave as in a stone cave. We're somewhere in the Scottish mountains, with a fire and furs. Honestly, I feel like a muggle!

Blaze and Suki are somewhat difficult to live with. The former never talks, and the latter snores. In such limited company, even your letters are a slight reprieve. Moreover Suki keeps trying to cook and failing miserably, so instead to preserve blood and food they've both permanently transformed into their animagi, and are endeavouring to teach me to as well. Apparently it really calms hunger pains and changes them into needs that are more easily satisfied. If Granger has any books on the subject they would be appreciated. Especially with my lack of energy hindering my methods of amusement. We have no literature here, save a muggle magazine that blew into the forest. I have memorised the top ways to achieve glossier hair. I would send it to you, as you are in need of it far more than I, but I fear that without it I shall lose my sanity.

Draco

* * *

Draco

I've exhausted Honeydukes of their supply of blood bites. You owe me I've had to send two more owls because of those and the books Hermione's lending you. When are you due?

And you know you asked me to keep you up to date with all the news? Well Trelawney has gone missing. Seamus is really superstious and swears to some saint that it's to do with her premonition, but Parvati Patil says she saw her with some guy in Hogsmeade and thinks she's eloped with him.

I can help with the snoring, I ripped out a page from a book and it's in with the blood bites. I'm flattered that our correspondence brings you such joy. Not. But seriously, though you have to tell me if you ever manage to transform. I bet you'll be something nasty. Ron wants me to tell you he reckons you'll be an albino toad. Speaking of albino, Blaise has been charmed to look a bit like you this week and it's really annoying him. He's wearing lots of hats. Oh yeah, and thanks a lot for that hair jibe.

I've sent you some books from your room. If I may ask, why have you got a book on pregnancy?

Harry

* * *

Harry

I need more blood bites! The 24th. Tell me about Trelawney. Snoring spell worked. Tell Weasley to stick his wand up his freckled behind.

Draco

* * *

Draco

Are you alright? Your last letter was really short and there were far too few insults in it. I've sent nine bags of blood bites and some stuff for blood potions I nicked from Snape's cupboard.

Harry

* * *

Harry

I'm fine. Tired.

Draco

* * *

Draco

Trelawney is dead. Some kids found her, it was Avada Kadavra a few miles from here. Loads of other murders have sprung up around the country and there's been several attempted breakouts from Azkaban. Dumbledore's setting up huge restrictions around the castle and all exams have been cancelled. There's a few storms predicted for the Scottish Highlands over the next few days. Are you ok?

Harry

* * *

Draco

It's the nineteenth now, and I haven't heard from you. Are you alright?

Harry

* * *

Draco

Where are you?

Harry

* * *

Harry finished scribbling another frantic note in Grimmaud place. Two weeks before, he had been allowed to sit in on a meeting of the Order of the Pheonix when they were discussing their plan for action after the Trelawney incident. Blaze had been there, about to head off to seek out the foremost vampire clan, and Harry was kicking himself for not asking about Draco then when he had the chance. Unnaturally worried, he knew something was terribly wrong - he had that feeling in his stomach and his mind was whirring over all the possibilities like a clockwork hamster going round a wheel. But he had to get a grip on himself, they were all flooing to Hogwarts in less than ten minutes and he had wasted hours worrying instead of packing. Guilt and nerves followed him around the room, leaving dark shadows on the dusty floorboards and lurking under the hideously upholstered furniture. A beam of candlelight fanned out from the door as Hermione poked her head around the old oak.

"Harry? Are you ok?"

He spun round, neck cracking like a whip. He slammed his trunk shut and forced himself to smile awkwardly when he saw the alarmed look on her face."Yeah. I'm fine. I'm ready to go." As he lined up by the fire downstairs, he still held on to what he'd been telling himself for the past few days: that Malfoy wasn't replying because he'd moved out of the cave and into Hogwarts. It didn't take more than an hour for him to search most of Hogwarts, including the Slytherin common room and the Room of Requirement. No sign.

The twenty fourth came and went, and he forced himself to sit through endless discussions about the war and all of the terrible events occurring throughout the country, all the while he was unsure whether Draco was alive or dead. It was torture, and all he could do was sit there twiddling his was bearable. Just. The worst part, though, was that he kept remembering every few minutes. He was finding it difficult to eat, impossible to sleep, and pretty tough doing anything else, and it was ever so slowly driving him just a little bit mad. His fingers itched for action, but as long as he was within the walls of the castle he was powerless. And here he had to stay. Voldemort's army had reared its ugly head and was storming the country, not leaving a town unturned by chaos. Every day new and more terrible stories were splashed all over front pages, muggle and wizrding papers alike, albeit with slightly differing recounts. And his scar stung horribly.

One particularly sleepless night after tossing and turning for several sweaty hours he couldn't take any more and fled downstairs into the deserted common room to lounge in an armchair by the fire, seriously considering taking the sleeping tablets Madam Pomfrey had forced upon him. Thankfully, Hermione had a sort of Harry sense, and padded down to join him in her dressing gown at about a quarter to three. She made them both mugs of frothy hot chocolate and settled down opposite him, tucking her feet underneath her whilst she looked at him, long and hard.

"Harry. It's extremely improbable because of his age, but he could've learnt to transform very quickly. Granted, he'd be the quickest learner in over a century but it's still possible. And I've read that it's easier for vampires. Don't you think he's in a different form to conserve energy like he said?"

Harry smiled lop sidedly. "I appreciate it Hermione, but you really shouldn't worry about me."

"How can I not? You've been moping around the castle since we've got back or else sitting in the owlery. And on top of that, Voldemort's on the rise again. Even you're a bit frazzled. But please remember Ron and I are always here when you need us. And it's quite obvious you need us. So, talk to me."

He sighed, relenting. "It's the not knowing that's killing me. I mean, he's either survived, or not, or survived in a different way and he's always going to be… that thing, you know?"

"A vampire? Harry even if he did transform he wont always be the hungry being - that's just a newborn stage, the personalities have yet to merge! Did you not read… oh, never mind. But look at Miss Synthra and Mr Sabarra. They're vampires, and they're not crazy. Well, it's true they lack some social skills, but you know what I mean."

At this point, Ron trundled down the stairs and settled sleepily onto the couch beside Hermione, sliding his head into her lap and helping himself to her hot chocolate. "Cheer up mate. We'll be out of here soon and you can look for that blasted weasel of yours 'til your hearts content." Harry bristled and his eyebrows furrowed in anger but he held himself, instead choosing to glare at the fire with the air of one chained up in a useless place. Which in a way, he was.

A few hours of dozing ensued before the trio dressed and made their way down to the Great Hall early, as they had been doing since the start of term. Harry sat for half an hour staring fixedly at the owl entrance and exhaling disappointedly when not one dropped anything in his lap. The other students came filing in in two's and threes and before long the noise in the hall was almost deafening. He was in the middle of a half hearted conversation with Ron when the Daily Prophet owls all came in and dumped their papers all around the room.

"So this year apparently they're using completely different tactics: play defensively for an hour or so until the other team's pretty much worn themselves down, then go in for the kill whilst your rested seeker enjoys the advantage over their counterpart. Genius, eh? And the best part is-"

Ron never got to the best part. He stopped when he and Harry saw the look on Hermione's face. She had gone white as a sheet and was staring, bug-eyed at the paper in her quivering hands. "Merlin Hermione," Ron snorted. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

With shaky breaths and trembling fingers, Hermione turned the quivering paper around to face the two boys.

_**Darker than her Arts - Chaos ensues in the Ministy as Ex Hogwarts teacher Suki Synthra is outed as a Death Eater.**_

* * *

_Be honest. None of you saw that coming, right?_

SunFlowerNightmares: Sorry the last one was so short, this one's longer than usual to make up for it! :)

Takaouto#1: Yes, lotsandlots of chapters :D

Aha! But you are forgetting owls! And, if house elves do all the breakfast, then there may be tons of house elves in the room too! ;)

#2: Thank you for your suggestion - however once I've finished a chapter, I'm usually too excited (and running late!) to get it posted so I don't have the patience for it to go through two beta readers! I tried that set up before, and trust me, I've had some bad beta experiences. Once when I had two it took one of them three weeks for a thousand word chapter, but thanks again for your concern and suggestion.

Littlesprout: Thanks very much! :)

ebonpinion: Thank you :) I love putting twists and making plots. This is the twistiest one! :D

Hyper Hippie: YAY! I've always wanted to make someone cry! ( Not in an evil way, of course. It just means I did it right :P) I hope your eye gets better soon, and I especially hope it doesn't stop you reading! That would be awful :( Yep, I'm looking forward to bio a lot!

Blaise is not finished being evil! Be prepared to hate him even more. And I bet you didn't see the Suki thing coming! MUHAHAHAH!

Of course it will be another drarry :D hope babysitting went well. Much love!

jo: Draco's all grown up and taking some responsibility! *Sniffles*

Momoluvsu13: Yay! I've been working up to friendship for sooo long it's lovely to write


	24. Chapter 24: The Cave

Professor Dumbledore could scarcely move after his brief encounter with the minister. Rufus had been unexpectedly pompous and petty about the whole affair and Albus had barely managed to keep a straight face; he didn't want to insult the man by making a mockery of his (however pretentious) speech on the processes of background-checking prospective staff members. Because for all the minister's faults, he was essentially a good fellow.

It was thus now only the man's ridiculously large entourage that was the problem. The Headmaster was in a hurry, after all, and the throngs of ministry officials and reporters were hindering his path; so he decided to execute one of his less flamboyant transfigurations and morph into a rather bright tartan newt. It certainly made getting through the crowds unnoticed easier. Once he had gotten clear of all the polished dark shoes and round a corner, he slipped back into his original form and swept off down the hallway with his eyes twinkling behind half moon glasses.

He happened upon the very man he was looking for in the exact time and place he had expected: Harry Potter was striding towards the doors in the entrance hall with his trunk and Hedwig as Dumbledore approached. The two men's paths collided a few metres from the large oak slabs.

"Don't bother, Professor Dumbledore. I'm going to look for him."

"Headmaster, Please!" A foul-tempered Minerva McGonagall thundered towards the two of them. "Potter is behaving irrationally - he says he will not spend another hour in this castle and I beg you make him see sense!"

"I can do nothing of the sort, Minerva my dear. Harry is old enough to leave this castle if he wishes." Harry looked triumphant until Albus opened his mouth once again to finish. "Although Harry my boy, I would suggest you leave it for an hour until such a time as when I can discuss the necessary preparations for your trip. I would make it sooner, but alas the ministry needs to be dealt with and despatched. Perhaps you could take this opportunity to alert your friends as to your intentions?" His questions were met with a steely eyed gaze of determination, a brief nod and then a retreating messy haired form as Harry jogged back up the steps towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Albus!" The Scottish woman advanced on him, fuming. "You cannot seriously be considering letting the boy go out there? Voldemort is becoming bolder- need I already remind you of Professor Trelawney?"

"Indeed you do not Minerva. Although I cannot physically stop Harry from leaving the premises, I'm sure that an hour with Miss Granger, several search parties, the promise of the full utilization of my assets and a nice cup of tea will appease his anger for the time being."

"That won't work this time, Albus. You should've seen the ruckus he caused when he read the paper in the hall! Never seen anything like it in my life! A young woman is in the hospital wing as we speak having a bit of black pudding extracted from one of her nostrils and a first year is in hysterics!"

"Please be calm Minerva, I assure you the utmost is being done to rectify the situation."

"It's not that I don't trust your judgement Albus, obviously I do. But there always was something off about that Synthra woman- are you really still as sure as to her disposition as you were when you first hired her?"

"Miss Synthra is not your average, woman, I agree. But then again, who among us is average? I believe that in times as dark as these she will do the right thing because though I do say it myself, I have a knack for choosing the very bravest and intelligent people for my staff." He looked at her pointedly, and she blushed a little. "And now, my dear Minerva I must ask you to return to your students. There are several matters that need my urgent attention and I think you will forgive me if I must dash off to attend to them." The woman nodded briskly and proceeded to hasten up the stairs and along a corridor, vanishing out of sight. Albus was left alone for a moment, in which time he placed a well deserved sherbet lemon into his mouth then headed off in the opposite direction to a frantic group of aurors that had appeared across the other side of the hall.

An hour later he had spoken to three Wizengamot members, Rufus twice, Kingsley Shacklebolt thrice and had cleaned Fawkes' litter tray, all in time for a knock at the door. A stony faced Harry Potter entered, sitting across from him without an invite. The young man set his suitcase down on the floor beside him.

"Harry, good to see you."

"Hello Professor."

"I see you've brought your suitcase? I take it you're leaving after this meeting?"

"I'm catching the Knight Bus from Hogsmeade. I just need to know where they were hiding out and I'll be on my way."

"Harry, this needs to be discussed. Please reconsider. Not only is it unwise for you to leave this castle for your own sake, but also sending a search party out may be precisely what Voldemort wants. You're old enough now to see this from different points of view."

"I'm old enough now to leave the castle, and one person hardly counts as a search party, Professor." Harry's words sounded rehearsed.

"Have Mister Weasley and Miss Granger had any say in this matter? I doubt they'd let you go on your own judging from previous occurrences."

"I haven't told them I'm going. I'm sorry Professor, but if you could just tell me the location, I'll leave."

Dumbledore sighed and reached for another lemon drop. Harry's sentences were blunt and to the point - it was difficult for him to reach the young man when he was like this. He'd crunched the lemon drop with his teeth and was enjoying the burst of flavour when the door to his office flew open.

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore tell me he's safe!" Narcissa Malfoy tore across the room and planted her hands firmly on the desk, chest heaving with frantic breaths and eyes wide and rolling. "I've sent an owl to the hideout an hour ago but there's no reply! You old fool, how could you let this happen? He's in the hands of one of those….those people! You-know-who could have found him by now, Dumbledore and after all the lengths Lucius went to to stop that happening! You may deem me unfit to look after my own offspring but you have done no better job, you've as good as murdered my boy and-"

Harry looked even more alarmed as Dumbledore instantly stood and barked: "You owled?"

"Well of course I did!" The woman shrieked, "My son is in mortal danger! You expect me not to try to contact him?"

"Mrs Malfoy, did your owl come back?"

"What?"

"The owl you used to send the message- did it come back?"

"Well of course it did you idiot-!"

"With the letter? Just as you sent it?"

"Yes!" Snapped the lady, her string of pearls bouncing as she spoke angrily; "Though I fail to see how that makes any difference!"

Albus relaxed. "If your owl came back exactly how you sent it then there is less chance it was intercepted or cursed. I must ask you not to do that again, Mrs Malfoy."

The vampire stood and regarded the headmaster for a moment and seethed before they were interrupted by the re-entry of Rufus Scrimgeour to Dumbledore's office, flanked by a dozen or so aurors.

"Dumbledore I- Mrs Malfoy, please leave. I require privacy. You too, Mr Potter."

Harry, who had been temporarily forgotten, rose to his feet and turned to the minister angrily and had just opened his mouth to let forth a stream of abuse when the red eyed Malfoy beat him to it.

"No I will not, you insensitive beast! My son is goodness knows where and you and all your pathetic little henchmen are doing nothing to help! The ministry has always been a mockery, and my leaving this dire situation as it is so you can ask Dumbledore to sign some paperwork and discuss trivial matters is positively laughable! I insist you leave at once!"

"Pardon me, Mrs Malfoy but it is not we that are fighting for the trivial matter."

"Did you just have the audacity to refer to my flesh and blood as unimportant?"

"Mrs Malfoy, Minister I hardly think-"

"It seems as though I did Mrs Malfoy. And I believe in circumstances such as these I can be forgiven for forgetting about your half-breed son and focusing the ministry." Narcissa's eyes throbbed crimson and she flung herself across the room, screeching. The minister barely had time to register what was occurring when a full grown livid vampire slammed into his chest and knocked him to the ground. No one could think or move fast enough. Wands were drawn, chairs upturned, paintings decimated until several voices shouted in unison and all was silent.

Only the ticking of the clocks stretched out the time as Narcissa Malfoy's body lay cooling on the floor. Her blonde hair fanned out behind her like a halo and her red eyes had gone blue and calm. The whole room stood still, frozen.

"Uh…I think we can agree that this is an open and shut case of defence." An auror muttered.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy's funeral was postponed until a date in which more people could attend. For the time being she was stored in the Room of Requirement, away from ministry officials and tabloid reporters. Not that any were left after the Headmaster banned them all from the castle grounds.

Harry's expedition, too, was postponed after much arguing. Dumbledore finally appeased Harry by pointing out that Voldemort had already tricked everybody into thinking he had Sirius all those years ago, when in fact he did not. And all that came of the rescue attempt was Sirius' death. The elderly man had not wanted to have to play that card and it disturbed him to see the hurt his words caused in Harry's features, but nonetheless it was necessary to keep Harry safe. And perhaps Draco, too.

The castle was still in uproar and the student's parents were clamouring to bring their children home. Many had lost trust in Dumbledore and his judgement after the supposed hiring of a death eater. Talk of Draco and the rescue attempts was kept quiet, but nonetheless a lot was done. Dumbledore himself went on one of the many search attempts during the next few hours, and Harry was adamant that he joined the group. Of course, that meant that Hermione and Ronald were in hot pursuit.

They left at one in the morning. Remus Lupin, Dumbledore, Harry, Hermione, Ron and to the displeasure of many, Severus Snape. The meeting place was not as one would think in the Great Hall but behind the Quidditch Stadium.

Albus was wearing his favourite purple cloak with the tiny silver moons stitched on that were apt to wander around the fabric depending on the light levels. Bathed in moonlight as he currently was, the moons had all scooted round the back. It was rather useful for searching as it provided a jolly good source of light. He had brought a big bag of the new sweets he'd happened upon when strolling through one of the lesser used corridors. Originally, they had been some of Fred and George's vomiting pastilles, but when de-charmed were actually rather delicious. He'd eaten five when Remus appeared from the Forbidden Forest looking a little worse for wear.

"Good evening Remus! Puking pastille?"

Remus Lupin was one of the few people who took the Headmaster's oddities in his stride and accepted a sweet trustingly, rolling it around his mouth with his tongue for a moment before swallowing it whole.

It tasted like chicken. He took another.

"I take it Severus has brewed the potion? We're less than a week away from the full moon, as I'm sure you know."

"Yes, Severus has been kind enough to do it once again. How I shall pay him back I have no idea, he's been doing it for many a year now."

"I have been doing what, pray?" The man in question slunk out of the shadows in one of his trademark shadowy capes."

"Brewing the potion for Remus, my dear Severus."

"Hmnh." There was a pregnant pause before Snape spoke again, his greasy hair glinting in the moonlight. "Headmaster, I must say again I believe it unwise to bring children along with us, especially ones who are apt to be inconviniences."

"Opinion noted once again Severus. But I do believe Miss Granger will be of use - she's heralded as the brightest witch of her age, you know."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Be that as it may, what about the adolescent males?"

"Harry and Ron are near enough adults now, Severus. They are not children and can look after themselves." Remus pointed out.

"Adults are punctual."

There was yet another silence in which the three wizards stood in the moonlight, some more patiently than others. Dumbledore and Remus sucked pastilles and Snape made a great show of conjuring up a clock every few minutes until two figures hurtled towards them from the castle.

"We're so sorry we're late!" Hermione gushed. "Ron's mum's insisted, so he had to stay behind to look after Ginny."

"Ah yes, I heard Ginevra was unfortunate enough to get black pudding up her nose yesterday- is she well?" Snape barely supressed a snort. "Yes. Well. Let's get going shall we?" Albus led the way towards the gates, his silver moons roaming around his clothes as he walked. He stopped abruptly just outside the school bounds and held his hands out to Harry and Hermione, and they all apparated. Harry lost his balance as soon as they arrived, letting go of Dumbledore and landing face first in a puddle full of mud in the middle of a dark forest. This time Snape didn't bother disguising his laughter as a fuming Potter charmed himself clean and sent death glares at his Potions Professor. The others pretended not to notice, instead taking in their surroundings.

The forest was cloaked in an odd sort of mist that wound its way through the trees like serpents. Colossal old redwoods towered above them, obscuring the moonlight and much of the night sky. The smell of damp pine hung in the air and a Scottish chill attacked their cloaks. The track they followed was mostly mud, devoid of tracks as far as they could tell but littered with leaves and twigs. It led on for what seemed like hours as Dumbledore's cloak lit the way, but it could not have been more than twenty minutes until they reached the foot of a mountain. Here, they charmed their feet so vertical travel was as easy as horizontal and continued on their path up the rocky terrain, dodging viscous looking slate shards and patches of slippery moss.

A few owls watched their progress from the safety of tree branches, and the odd fox stole a glance at them from the undergrowth far below but asides from that the night was silent until Albus was the first to spot the cliff lip and gave out a triumphant cry. Everyone else scrambled to the point in the middle of the cliff where a large platform jutted out before the gaping mouth of a cave. It stank of damp, and you couldn't see into in more than a yard or two, even with Dumbledore's miniature planets straining to the front.

Remus could smell the dread in the teenager's and hear their accelerated heartbeats. He could also smell something ominous. "Albus…?" He was silenced by a solemn nod from the Headmaster.

The elderly wizard was the first to enter the cave, so cast a Lumos that suckered to the top of the cave. The cold walls and ceiling widened out a few dozen metres in and formed a little sphere of slate about the size of a classroom. It was here they found a bookcase fashioned out of the wall, crammed with mouldy Potions volumes and textbooks. Next to it was a shelf of Potions ingredients teetering precariously above a cauldron with nicks and dents bashed into the black metal.

On the other side of the 'room' was a large pile of furs and what would have been a neatly piled load of bottled potions. Had the bottles not all been smashed, their shards reaching all around the cave and their crimson contents in a dried pool on the floor.

"I think we found what you smelt, Remus."

Hermione bent down and analysed the potion on the floor. "Thank goodness," she breathed. "It's just the false blood potion they would have brewed for him. But, forgive me Professor Lupin, can you not smell the difference? There are several distinct differences-"

She was silenced by the werewolf shaking his head and pointing to a crumpled heap at the very back. Shoved up against the wall the figure looked broken and beaten, its blond hair dull and flat. His hands were curled up against him and his legs splayed out like a rag doll. It had teeth like a dog, the canines sharp and elongated too much so for any human. The vampire had quite a square face and tailored clothes, an emerald suit below a black cloak. Everyone drew their wands as he opened his eyes suddenly and twitched.

"Identify yourself." Snape barked.

The unfamiliar being ever so slowly shifted itself into a painful squat then straightened with a grimace, the clicks of bone resounding throughout the cave. He seemed to weigh up his odds for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak, but before he did so he lurched round and apparated with a crack.


	25. Chapter 25: Eve of Battle

It was a while before they all returned to the castle, cloaks damp with drizzle and spirits as dark as the night skies. All for nothing - the vampire had apparated without a trace. Inhuman magic signatures were too difficult to track, even for Professor Dumbledore- it was jerky and fraught with gaps, jumping like a heartbeat and disappearing altogether in places. When they had all made their way back to Hogwarts the party bid each other goodnight, voicing intentions of scheduling another search for the following night.

And they did go, that next night. And the next. And the next. A week of fruitless, bone chilling midnight searches passed before Hermione stopped coming, instead choosing to spend her time in the library researching methods of tracking whilst racking her brains for a plan. Ron replaced her for a while, but was so distracting he was of little use and so two weeks later it was just Dumbledore and Harry. They apparated to the familiar clearing. The thoroughly disturbed forest floor beneath their feet crackled in protest as four heavy boots crushed and mashed the leaves it hoarded, making footprint-shaped holes in its blanket of copper foliage. The owl family, now used to their nightly intruders, hooted dully in the branches and watched without much interest as the pair of men split up, each heading in opposite directions.

Harry parted from his Professor without fear or apprehension, instead leaving with his wand shoved in the back pocket of his jeans and his eyes sweeping the scene. It was odd how one could search for so many nights without quite knowing what for. At some level he knew that he wasn't ever going to find a clue here, and that these nocturnal jaunts were just a way of appeasing his urge to run and keep running until he found his friend. Thoughts of the blond had crept into even the deepest crevasses of his mind only to resurface when sleep came. Heartbreaking nightmares lingered in the bed sheets long after he'd awoken. It helped to search, so he kept looking.

The hours began to stretch and blur as they were wont to. The cold had wriggled its way into his fingertips and toes yet his determination never wavered and his eyes were always alert. The seconds ticked away as Harry stalked the earth and the moon swept across the sky, and they both knew they'd see each other the following night.

The clear skies meant even colder temperatures; eventually the rough wool of Harry's cloak had patches of frost on it and the mud that was caked onto his shoes was solid. The cold affected his hearing, too. He didn't detect the advancing footsteps or the soft swoosh that should have been horribly familiar. Thankfully he did hear the killing curse sent in his direction.

"Avada Kedavra!"

His instincts threw him behind a redwood and drew his wand all in one fluid movement. He glanced around the rough bark at a group of Death Eaters spreading out in all directions, trying to circle him. But the forest was on his side, and his knowledge aided him in his flight. He slid away from them down a steep bank and took refuge behind a vast fallen tree trunk. He heard them yelling, and sent a few curses towards some, but only the ones separated from the rest of the group so he didn't give away his position.

"Over here!"

The one closest to him was advancing down the steep bank and Harry sent a tripping curse towards the man before sprinting in a long arc. The main group of Death Eaters were between him and Dumbledore. He needed to bypass the group without leading them towards the Headmaster, so he went the long way by ducking under branches and struggling through thicket. Once or twice he narrowly missed green jets of light, but thankfully he was able to dispatch the offending man and woman with a sleeping spell. He stumbled through the deepest reaches of the forest until he finally saw the tiny globes of light of Dumbledore's favourite cloak in the distance. Checking behind him he raced towards the clearing and into Dumbledore's path.

"Headmaster! There are-"

He was interrupted by a loud curse from the opposite end of the clearing and felt himself swept behind the Headmaster as Dumbledore sprung into action. Harry barely had time to register what was going on before the Death Eater was lying unmoving on the floor, rigid as a plank, his angry eyes swivelling around. His comrades were not far behind, and they put up a good fight, but soon enough they were all tied to the trees in various states of consciousness. Dumbledore rounded on him.

"Harry, we must return to the castle. These people were sent here to keep us occupied. Either that or Tom has gathered enough allies to consider himself a threat to us. Neither of those possibilities is good for us. Come, take my arm."

In silence, Harry slipped his hand into the crook of the old man's elbow and concentrated on the concern he felt for his friends rather than the familiar unpleasant sensation behind his navel. Soon enough the pair were sprinting up the stone steps into Hogwarts and straight into a sombre Professor McGonagall and Kingsley.

"Headmaster," Kingsley grunted. "The Minister is dead. The Dark Lord has already conquered the ministry and my sources believe that the castle is his next port of call."

"Minerva, you know what to do. We've known this night was coming for a long time."

Harry was left to be pushed into the Entrance Hall as streams of students filed down the stairs and into the Great Hall.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall whipped out her wand and joined Professor Flitwick in locking the colossal oak doors. Giant bars of magically reinforced steel slid across, grinding against the cold stone and aged wood. All four of them slid into place, sizzling with blue magic as they slotted into their indents in the wall. She then turned to adress the dozens of ghosts that had assembled behind her. All heights and bearing different scars some hovered while a few bounced up and down like uncertain balloons. Collectively they gave off a beautiful white glow that meant Minerva had to squint.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Hogwarts has been your home for decades, if not centuries. The castle is currently under threat from the Dark Lord, and that means that the lives of the students and your lives as you know them are at stake. As a school we have offered all of you a home regardless of background and history, and we ask you now that you join us in defending this home. I will not lie - this battle will be extremely dangerous but any help you can give will be greatly appreciated. Any of you who wish to participate in the defence of Hogwarts would you please step forward and follow Professor Snape into the dungeons."

A great blur of white forms stepped forward. Almost all of the ghosts rose up with looks of grim determination, and one of the bards began reciting a poem about the 'Eve of Battle'. When all of the supernatural defenders had disappeared into the stone corridors, only five were left. One was hanging from the ceiling, giggling.

"Peeves?" Called the Scottish woman. "Peeves you have full access to Mr. Filch's confiscated items drawer on the condition that they are used only on the correct people." The ghost let out a shriek of pure delight and began to zoom towards the staircase. "And Peeves? I believe Samantha Davies of Slytherin has several dung bombs down in her Slytherin quarters. Do with them as you see fit." She winked at the spectre before heading off to breathe life into the many suits of armour around the castle, letting the ghosts disinclined to fight tend to themselves.

The aurors arrived less than ten minutes later. She directed them into the Great Hall and made one last sweep of the castle, checking every nook and cranny and every disused classroom for stray pupils. Once satisfied she returned to the Hall to listen to Dumbledore's speech. He had taken up his usual position on the golden eagle podium in front of the staff table and cleared his throat for silence.

"Lord Voldemort has indeed broken into the Ministry of Magic. The Minister is deceased and we have some hostage situations but apart from that there are no other fatalities because of the time of night. But our main concern is that his next aim is to take down Hogwarts. I understand that this is a terrifying experience but I must ask you all to stay calm. This is the safest place in the United Kingdom, and you have the best defenders you could ask for in your teachers and the staff here. I also understand that some of you wish to fight. It is brave and noble of you but I must insist that only those of you over the age of sixteen are allowed to participate in the battle. Everyone else must stay in the Great Hall with some of the teachers and aurors."

Screams of anger and rage pierced the room but Dumbledore silenced them with a look from behind his half moon glasses.

"Do not think that this is a game. None of us get a second chance at life and I would ask that those of you that are of age think carefully about what you want to do. No one will think any the less of you for choosing to stay put, but those of you who are over sixteen and wish to fight please stand and follow your Heads of House out of the doors and into the Entrance Hall."

Minerva swelled with pride as a huge number of Gryffindors immediately rose to their feet, roaring their courage despite the terror in their eyes. She sent a few underage students back to their seats but nodded her consent at the vast majority of the volunteers. She led them through to line up orderly in the Entrance Hall, and out of the corner of her eye noted half of the Ravenclaws following suit, and a few dozen Hufflepuffs. In time all eyes turned to the Slytherin table.

For a long moment, no one moved. Then Vincent Crabbe rose slowly to his feet, legs shaking like jelly but beefy face determined. He set off down the table towards a bewildered Professor Snape.

"Will you be joining us, Professor?" He said in a shaky voice. Snape just nodded.

"Then I'll fight, too," grunted Goyle, who followed his best friend to the bottom of the row. No one knew quite what to do, until a few more Slytherins rose to their feet and joined the three of them, getting bewildered looks from their housemates.

Minerva's eyes went a little watery as she watched her students steeling themselves for battle. Tears threatened to spill over as she caught a glimpse of the looks in some of their eyes. She couldn't cry in front of them but it broke her heart to see those so young preparing to die. Not that she hadn't seen that look before in someone far younger. She had seen it the very first time she saw him, but she had grown so used to it over the years that it barely registered. Yet now, it was so apparent that she had to disguise a throaty sob as a cough as the resigned green eyes looked at her and the doomed spoke.

"Professor, I need to speak to Dumbledore."

She nodded and took off in the direction of the Headmaster, but not before placing a fond hand on his arm for what could be the last time.

* * *

Harry heard Voldemort before he saw Dumbledore, and it burned his scar like wildfire. The high, cruel tones violated the very stones of the castle and reverberated off the walls.

"You are brave to prepare to fight, but it need not be this way. Surrender now, and I will not let so much talent go to waste. Do not be foolish, you cannot triumph over me. If you attack, my Death Eaters will be merciless and your blood will soak the grounds of your beloved castle."

Cries of fear came from all around him as people whirled around, looking for the source of the voice. Dumbledore appeared at Harry's side and gripped his arm tightly as the young man groaned under the pain of his scar. It took a few moments, but Harry steadied himself enough to ask:

"Neither can live whilst the other survives. What else did she predict, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked at him solemnly. "My boy, nothing is set in stone. Look around you- students we never expected to raise a finger for our cause are preparing themselves to do battle against their own kin. I know that whatever Professor Trelawney predicted can change."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"She told me that Voldemort will fell an unexpected ally. That is all, truly. Tonight is no night to have secrets." He glanced pointedly in the direction of Ron and Hermione, who were locked in an embrace so tight it was a wonder they did not burst.

Dumbledore disappeared into the crowd and Harry was left standing in the centre of teenagers preparing to die. He looked at them all in turn until after several minutes Kingsley addressed them. "The House Elves and the Centaurs are willing to fight alongside us. Hagrid has several animals that will be of use to us, and allies are coming from all directions to participate in this battle. Remember your shield charms, and sometimes disillusionment spells are your best friend. Don't make the error of thinking that these people will show mercy because of your age. They will kill you if you give them the chance. Do not give them that chance."

After his last words had finished echoing, people began to turn to face the oak doors. Hermione and Ron appeared by his side.

"Harry, be careful." Hermione whispered, taking his hand.

"We're going to get through this, mate."

The doors opened and the light of the moon bathed them all in sweet sorrow. They looked down the steps to see dozens of aurors and Order members clamouring to get into the castle. Molly Weasley spied her son and the rest of the redhead family followed, pulling Harry and Hermione into hugs so tight it knocked the breath out of them. After frantic embraces, Harry pulled away to look for the people missing. It was difficult to see through the crowd but he fought his way through to the front where all the members of the Order of the Phoenix were streaming through the doors. Brown cloaks, black cloaks, navy cloaks, he could not make out one person from another apart from- dog!

"Padfoot!" He yelled, and the giant black dog flung itself at him with loud barks of joy and proceeded to lick every inch of his face.

"Sirius!" Remus approached and prized his best friend off of Harry, grinning. "Let the boy breathe!"

"Remus!" Harry beamed, enclosing his ex-teacher in the fiercest of hugs and chuckling at the jealous whines from the dog tugging at his ankles. It soon wasn't a dog though, as Sirius reverted to his true form. Screams of alarm met the sight of him and dozens drew their wands.

"Stop!" Harry bellowed. "This man is on our side!" It took a few seconds for everyone to lower their wands but so trusted was Harry that they didn't question him. They turned away to resume reassuring their loved ones and wishing each other luck. Sirius was the least of their worries.

A while later Hagrid arrived with the last of the Order, holding an enormous black bag and grinning. The bag writhed nastily. "Alrigh' 'Arry? You be careful out ther' you 'ear me?" He leaned down and whispered in an undertone; "Mind you, I've got summat in 'ere that'll deal with a couple o' Death Eaters for ye." He winked and disappeared into the crowd.

The Elves arrived out of the kitchens and Harry exchanged words of encouragement with Dobby, who was wielding a sword he had stolen from one of the more clumsy suits of armour. The centaurs came next, squeezing into the Great Hall with their bows and arrows and golden daggers. All of the ghosts sailed back out of the dungeons, and Peeves appeared with foul smelling bags and something hideous clinging to his glowing white shoe.

The wards on the doors were enchanted so that they were still in place even when the great oak slabs were open. The owls were sent away, and the Whomping Willow was whomping at twice its usual speed. The giant squid lurked in the lake. Hogwarts was ready.

It soon went deathly quiet in the Great Hall. The only sound was the hundreds of heaving lungs and Harry's own heartbeat. It was cold, and the breaths of the defenders created a fine mist that hovered over them protectively as they all stared out into the grounds. It took a few moments for the shadows near the gates of the grounds to move and twist before they began to advance.

"Here they come!" Someone yelled.

"It seems you have been foolish enough not to accept my gracious offer." Voldemort's tones once again echoed throughout the castle. "Pity".

Dumbledore took his place at the front of his army. Then they all moved. An almighty cheer erupted from them as they all surged down the steps, hundreds of people rushing to defend their loved ones, their homes and their way of life. The wave of powerful witches, wizards, elves, centaurs and ghosts burst through the doors, spilling out in every possible direction across the grounds, and Harry's heart swelled with pride as his feet pummelled the ground beneath him. Various defensive strategies begun around him, but he continued on towards the hundreds of shadowy figures condensing out of the gloom near the gates. Then the spells began to fly.

Every footfall sent jolts up his body, and every icy breath burned his lungs but he screamed his curses all the same. He heard Hermione transfiguring the grass beneath her feet and Ron bellowing abuse mixed with spells at a Death Eater who came too close. A whoosh sounded above his head as people on broomsticks and ghosts sailed overhead towards the invaders and in the distance he saw nine elves all attacking the same man, clinging to his body and covering him with spells. The whole scene was a blur. Four shadows soon advanced on him, and he got two of them with Stupefies, but the other two melted out of sight and reappeared behind him. He narrowly missed a bolt of light under his arm and rolled out of the path of another. He kicked one of them in the stomach, enough to send the figure flying. The man's head collided with a rock and he fell still, but his chest still heaved with breaths. His comrade screamed her outrage and hit Harry with a slicing spell, one that glanced one of his thighs, leaving a bloody gash. He whirled out of the line of fire and into another as a different Death Eater came to her aid. The man quickly fired off a few spells that Harry deflected with a shield charm, but the woman managed to come up behind him and disarm him. He dived for his wand almost as soon as it was knocked from his grasp. Ron came to his aid and threw him the wood, but got hit in the back with a jinx for his trouble. The young man roared his pain and turned to deal with his attacker, leaving Harry to knock out the male Death Eater with a stunning spell and knock the woman off her feet with petrificus totalus.

He saw Firenze outnumbered and sent several spells to aid the centaur, who kicked one of his attackers with his powerful hind legs. The minutes flew by Harry as his world became a blur of violence and panic. Sirius was in grim form and attacking a fallen Death Eater with vicious fangs whilst Moony defended them both with a complicated bubble that shone a million different hues of blue. In the distance, Harry watched Hagrid let out a bellow of triumph as he emptied the contents of his black bag and giant scorpions the colour of flames scuttled out. Cornish pixies were released from their cage and set about tearing out the hair of the nearest Death Eater whilst bow truckles helped the Whomping Willow attack several Death Eaters at once.

Then Harry's blood ran cold as he saw the man of his nightmares apparate outside the gates and stride in, felling half a dozen men with a flick of his wrist. Dumbledore met him on the path and the two men paused for a heartbeat and then began to maim each other with fiery serpents and snatching shadows. Harry picked his way towards them, his own heartbeat ringing in his ears and his yells of hatred muffled by the sounds of battle all around him. But one sound was unfamiliar.

Chunk chunk chunk. Chunk chunk chunk chunk. Chunk chunk chunk.

The battlefield was still for a moment. Only the sneakiest cursed in the silence as the others paused, believing the sounds to be a machination of the other side. A few bodies fell.

Chunk chunk chunk. Chunk chunk chunk chunk. Chunk chunk chunk.

The sound seemed to be coming from all around them, from every nook and cranny of the shadowed forest and grass. Lupin cast a lumos on the castle, the spell illuminating the area like floodlights, but it was little help as the sound continued, unidentified. Harry cast a nervous glance at Hermione a few feet away, and she twitched her shoulder, equally wary.

Breaths spoiled the darkness as the mist from their mouths spilled up into the night and the stars cut through the blackness. Some of the fallen moaned, but other than that all was still.

And then they came. They flowed out of the darkness in cloaks darker than the night itself. Half a dozen hooded figures glided out of the shadows in a line, heads down and clothed arms hanging loosely by their sides. Fear seized Harry's heart until he saw that they weren't large enough to be Dementors. The air went very cold and still, but a whisper of a breeze played around everyone's feet, fluttering the heavy cloaks of the figures. Then the breeze died down and all was eerily quiet.

Slowly and carefully a few people moved, trying to judge the threat that lay before them. Bellatrix sent a jet of green light the nearest one, but the figure flickered - it moved to the side and back so fast that the spell was absorbed uselessly by the night. A dozen more green shots were let loose, and each was avoided with unnatural ease. The figures didn'teven seem to be breathing.

Voldemort addressed them.

"Show yourselves, cowards."

The words lingered in the darkness for a moment, uncertain but authoratitive. And then they were answered. The figures all glided forwards a few feet, rapidly sweeping across the grass like snakes. One of them lifted their hoods.

It was nothing more than a man, yet it was too different to be one. His skin was pearly and his eyes were as yellow as the moon reflected in them. Except the moon was behind the clouds in the night sky. And when he spoke, the twenty something man spoke as if he were older than the stars themselves.

"We have come to choose our side."

"Bellatrix," The Dark Lord snapped. "Who did you summon?"

"I summoned no one my L-"

"We answer to no one, Tom."

A feminine voice joined his, as smooth as the wind and soft as velvet. "Few, we may be. But we do not let threats slide."

McNair paled. "Master," he croaked. "Master, I think-"

"Silence!" Barked the ivory man. He turned to Voldemort. "You may have heard that it is a troubling time for us, Tom. I'm sure you understand that we've no time for your games now and your threats are unwelcome. Albus. You should have come to us."

The headmaster bowed his head whereas his counterpart screeched indignantly. "Insolence! I am the Dark Lord, filth, and you would do well to know your place!"

"Know our place, should we? Our place is in every forest in Scotland, every marsh, every moor." Another woman joined the man. "You have invaded our lands for too long, scum!"

Her leader raised a finger to silence her. "This no time to lose your temper. I'm sure that-"

Simultaneously, two green bolts flew at him and hit squarely in the chest. He staggered for a moment, lurching over the grass like a drunken sailor before regaining his composure and straightening. Gasps sounded from over the field.

"My my. You really shouldn't have done that."

Without warning, he disappeared. He moved so fast, no human eye saw, but suddenly he reappeared behind one of the Death Eaters. A loud click sounded as he broke the mans neck with his finger and thumb.

His allies all threw themselves into the action and the battle resumed. "It seems we are siding with Albus." The man hissed.

The vampires were quick and experienced. They felled many, but several were hit with more than five or six killing curses at the same time and their bodies went to the ground like felled statues. Beings of pure grace, they weaved in and out of battle and Harry saw one slice a Death Eaters leg clean in two with a silver dagger.

The battle continued for what seemed like hours. Harry sustained a blow to his head that left him dazed, and a Death Eater rammed home her advantage, cleaving a deep wound in his shoulder. But no sooner had a look of triumph swept across her face than it was distorted by tiny fingers ramming themselves up her nose as Dobby climbed onto her neck with a heroic leap from a boulder. His magic shot up into her head, overloading her system and knocking her unconscious.

"You will not harm Harry Potter!"

"Thanks Dobby," Harry breathed at the elf who was wiping his digits on the woman's back. Dobby nodded and smiled, before dashing off to aid a female elf who had been cornered by five men. Harry rolled over and tried to stem the blood leaking from his shoulder it leaked through his fingers and made him faint. The wound was deep and his arm hung limp. Thankfully it was not his wand arm, so he tried to make a clumsy attempt at healing himself. Unsuccessful spells flicked the seconds past until he struggled to his feet. His bruised shins barely kept him upright, but he was too distracted to notice them complaining at his weight. His eyes were on the new wave of vampires emerging from the forest. The backup was a welcome addition to the defender's forces as many of their number were in heaps on the dewy grass rather than able to fight. About half a dozen vampires materialised from through the trees, but before he could watch any more the stabbing pain in his shoulder removed his attention from their grace back to his injury. With some help from Arthur Weasley who was running around with Dittany, Harry managed to force the pain back to a bearable level but his arm still was useless. If it wasn't, he would have been able to land a blow on McNair, who had come up behind him.

The executioner looked at Harry with an expression that was more than a grimace than a grin and brandished his wand at the Boy Who Lived. The wand was thrust so close to Harry's face that he could count the splinters on the battered wood and see the spittle that landed on it as McNair spoke to him.

"The Dark Lord will reward me for bringing him your head!" He chuckled. Harry lurched backwards but hissed with pain as his arm banged against the ground. McNair watched with the air of a cat chasing a mouse as Harry struggled to stand, lurching around on shaky legs but still firing curses with his wand. His opponent blocked them all and laughed cruelly as the wound on Harry's shoulder ripped open a little more, drawing a scream of pain from his lips. The man pointed his want at the Boy Who Lived and whispered "Avada Kedavra!"

The spell should have hit Harry squarely in the face, but his knees buckled underneath him and brought him crashing to the earth as the curse sailed uselessly above him. McNair vanished from in front of him - the man was lifted from his feet by a pair of strong hands and thrown ten feet away to collide with a redwood with a sickening crunch. The Death Eater slid down to rest in a matress of ferns at the trunk of the tree. Harry's breaths were short from his encounter but his heart had stopped.

"Draco."

The vampire that was Draco Malfoy turned to him when Harry breathed his name. The world seemed to go silent as Draco looked at him with a tortured face, and the arms that had thrown McNair fell. He collapsed by Harry's side and reached out to the Gryffindor and drew him close, encircling Harry's middle like a vice and tangling hands in his chestnut hair. Draco pressed a kiss to his forehead and heaved a sigh of relief, muscles flexing and breath tickling Harry's ear.

"Harry."


	26. Chapter 26: Stones and Bells

They took a few seconds to themselves, the sound of the battle muffled by their own shallow breaths as they clung to one another. Harry's injured arm began to shake alarmingly but his other clutched Draco as if it could do nothing else, the calloused fingers of his hand clenching a fistful of the vampire's cloak. He was weak from relief but it was as if his body had relapsed into its default state- here, clinging to Malfoy in the inky darkness felt right and natural. The body he held was trembling as it released some long suppressed emotion that engulfed them both and they heaved a long sigh, but neither moved from the other's embrace.

"I knew you weren't gone," Harry breathed. He felt Malfoy smiling into his shoulder and smelled the familiar vanilla scent. They relished the moment, safe from the world for an instant. Very slowly they untangled themselves and surveyed each other, Draco instantly fussing over Harry's wound and trying various spells to heal it. It was miraculous how long they stayed out of the way but eventually they were attacked and their reunion was cut short.

The battle raged on around them, screams and spells blending together until their ears rang and they stumbled like small children. Draco wasn't using his wand as much as Harry, instead preferring to knock Death Eaters out with his speed and strength, but the effort was taking its toll and Harry could see he had several gory gashes on his torso from curses he couldn't dodge. Harry himself was having trouble fighting with just his wand arm - his other was useful for balance and without it he was struggling to stay upright. But this inconvenience soon paled into insignificance. He felt it before he heard the approach. Cold, unadulterated dread coursed through his system and his scar seared with white hot flame. He felt strong arms catch him as his knees buckled and he was placed gently on the cold ground, but the pain just intensified and he began to yell."Harry! Harry can you hear me?" Draco didn't bother to disguise the fear in his voice as he shook the Gryffindor. "Harry?" Malfoy looked with increasing desperation at the unresponsive Harry until after a few seconds the brunette stopped writhing and his eyes flew open, suddenly looking straight past Draco into the darkness. At what stood behind them in the shadows.

The silence was broken by a harsh, cruel voice. "And so it ends, Harry."

A rushed intake of breath. "Run, Draco." Harry pleaded, bruised arms pushing the vampire away. "Run!"

"I'll deal with you later, blood traitor." Said the calm voice to Draco." Harry and I have a prophecy to fulfil first I'm afraid."

Fighting the fear in every fibre of his body, Draco moved slowly and purposefully to his feet. For a moment, he seemed to be preparing to flee, his feet turning and eyes searching frantically for an escape route. But then he moved calmly to stand in between Voldemort and Harry in the dark Hogwarts' grounds. The battle muffled around his ears until all he could hear was Harry's laboured breathing and the hissing voice.

"Seen the error of your ways have you, Draco? Trying to be a martyr? Like father like son I suppose, Lucius too chose the wrong side at the wrong time, which is a pity ; I once had high hopes for the Malfoys. Nonetheless, you are still intelligent - so you will know to take my advice and stand aside now."

The vampire didn't move.

"Very well. Crucio!"The eerie light erupted out of the wand and fizzled towards the vampire through the night. Draco braced himself for the familiar sensation of agony, and glanced towards the crumpled figure of Harry on the floor whose large eyes were wide with horror. The Malfoy drew himself up to his full height and closed his eyes, waiting for the pain. It came, but not as he had suspected. Something very hard collided with his shins and knocked him to the ground in a flurry of movement. He ripped open his eyes to see Blaze next to him scrambling to his feet, red hair billowing and eyes narrowed at Voldemort, who was chuckling to himself from the darkness.

"Draco, move." Blaze warned, constantly adjusting his position to try and shield both young men from the ghost-like man before them.

Harry wasn't about to lie on the floor helplessly. He had started scrabbling for his wand through the blood stained grass when he was torn from the ground by Draco and tossed over his shoulder. The vampire paused, unsure of what to do next.

"However sickeningly touching this scene is, I'm afraid it's rather insulting to believe you're going to get away from the Dark Lord." Bellatrix Lestrange had appeared before them, mad eyes rolling in white, translucent skin. She flicked her wrist and Draco collapsed, legs locked and unmoving. Harry landed with a sickening crunch beside him, and the two groaned in pain. Blaze backed away from Voldemort to crouch in front of Harry and Draco, shielding them with his own body whilst Draco scrabbled around aiming remedies at his immobile legs."Let me guess," crooned Bellatrix. "If you want to get to Harry you have to go through us first? Gryffindors are so cliche." She swayed from side to side with cackles rising from the back of her throat and her cruel looking wand flicking back and forth between her hands. "It was Gryffindor predictability that got your little girlie caught, wasn't it? You'd think you people would learn. Now she's all chained up, poor little kitty."

Through her monologue Blaze had gradually risen to his feet and spread his arms, shielding the pair behind him from view with his cloak so that when Draco darted out from behind it Bellatrix only had time to look suprised before he snapped her neck with his dextrous white digits. Her body fell to the floor with the ridiculous expression still on her features. "I'm a Slytherin," he howled with rage and raised his wand as Draco darted back to Blaise and the pair stood in front of the Boy Who Lived.

"Death is too swift a punishment for you!" Screeched Voldemort.

This time the spell hit its targets and they screamed as one. Harry yelled and reached for his wand but just as his fingers grazed the wood the spell stopped and the cries died away into heavy breathing. Voldemort raised his wand again and this time it glowed green with the threat of the worst unforgivable curse. Blaze pushed Draco behind him and stood tall, preparing himself for the last syllables he would ever hear.

But the words never passed the snakelike lips. From the castle a scream so filled with anguish it was more a roar echoed from the turrets and reverberated through the forest. Everything was silent for a moment, and then the sound of stone cracking boomed through the valley. Roosting birds erupted from their trees and spilled into the sky and even the wind died down as a glimmering golden shape burst through the castle doorway and bounded across the grass, almost gliding as giant paws pounded the earth into submission. The lion glimmered golden in the silver moonlight and it's muscles rippled with power. And as it ran, it changed. The regal mane grew longer and the spine straightened as it moved, turning from furious beast to furious woman. The roar morphed into a scream of pain and fear and anger as the lioness changed, cape billowing out behind her and eyes bright with determination and tears, all traces of awkwardness gone from her gate.

Suki Synthra flung herself at the most feared wizard of all time and ripped at him with inhuman strength. She clawed at his flesh and kicked with her legs and ripped at his throat with snapping fangs, blood red eyes full of manic fear for her kin. Voldemort screeched in fury and surprise and flung her off as a dozen bolts of green light collided with her chest and she was hurled twenty feet up into the air and consumed by the darkness.

Harry saw his chance. Amid the yells and screams he was unnoticed and crawled through the bloody mud towards his wand, ignoring the pain from his wounds. He prized it from the mud and allowed himself to collapse into the earth, one eye shut and glasses fractured. It was difficult to aim through the crowds of warring people but his target stood out like a sore thumb, pure hatred and bitterness emanating from his every movement. Voldemort was glowing with fury, sending curse after curse at anything he could see. Harry aimed the tip of his wand through the madness, straight at his nemesis and whispered the forbidden words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

His head gave in to the night. His vision failed him - darkness swept over his eyes and he blacked out in the mud and the drizzle and the pain and the screams.

* * *

The whomping willow swayed gently in the breeze, and for once looked peaceful as the castle bell tolled.

The funeral had been the grandest anyone had ever seen. Dozens of ornate coffins stood in neat rows with thousands of flowers of every description laid at their feet. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked past every one and laid their own flowers in respect to the dead after the service. Albus had given a speech on how none of the fallen would be forgotten, and that their sacrifice was the reason the world was a better place. Harry hadn't really taken any of it in. He was still adjusting to the fact that he was still alive, but that part of that life would never be the same again. He breathed in the smell of the lillies and roses on the hot breeze and tried to relish the freedom and triumph, but they did not come. He was not naïve enough to think he would experience those feelings for a long, long time. There would be many sleepless nights and haunting dreams from this battle that would plague him for the rest of his days. So many deaths made it not really feel like a victory at all. Triumph seemed like an emotion that was always blocked, there was always something stopping it, something that needed doing or remembering, another task to do before the end was reached and he could let his guard down.

He saw the Weasleys making their way through the crowds towards the trio, red hair standing out against the sea of black coffins and suits and suddenly he knew he couldn't be here any longer. He needed to be elsewhere.

"I'm going to the infirmary, guys. I'll see you later."

Hermione and Ron looked at him for a long moment. They knew where he was really going, or rather to whom. Then Hermione gave him a small nod, as did Ron. The moment stretched out a little longer than necessary, but the understanding was there. He smiled a little at their blessing and started off up the hill.

He was almost at the top when he noticed them down near the forbidden forest watching the funeral from the shade. He started towards the group under the hot sun, loosening his collar at his sudden heightened temperature. His feet moved automatically, strong strides across the grass he had fought for his life on less than a week ago. He came to a standstill in front of them.

Blaze was stood next to a wheelchair, tall and proud and silent. Draco sat in front of it, feet venturing out into the sunlight but body sheltered by the dappled shade of the trees. They both looked at him, one smiling and the other stony. Both sets of eyes bloodshot.

In the wheelchair resided the slumped, empty shell of a woman. She slept with a blanket even in the fierce heat, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly. Suki's comatose form breathed in and out slowly.

Harry stood awkwardly for a moment, the sun partially blinding him when the leaves moved in the breeze. It made his glasses flash, and he buried his hands in his pocket in search of something. He produced a tiny bunch of wildflowers that he returned to normal size with his wand and handed to Blaze, who placed them in the wheelchair with a nod of thanks.

"Harry? We should take a walk," Draco's voice was croaky but firm as he rose to his feet and took Harry by the arm out into the sunshine. They walked in silence for a while, neither willing to speak but both knowing what needed to be said. Draco's feet glided through the emerald grass and his suit trousers became stained green at the hems. He didn't seem to care.

"When do you go?" Harry finally said as they reached the lake.

"Now."

"Now?"

Harry's strangled cry made Draco's mouth turn in an unhappy frown. "There's no reason to delay any longer. We've paid our respects."

"But you can't go now!"

"Harry, my parents are dead. Most of the Slytherins are dead or returning home, I'm behind on my studies. I'm not even human any more. There is nothing left for me at Hogwarts."

They came to a stop on a tiny stone beach on one side of the lake. Silver birch trees rustled behind them and not a soul was seen save the two of them: Draco kicking pebbles into the water with his loafers and Harry watching the clouds sail across the sky, face lined with thought.

"What about me?"

"What?" The blonde asked sharply, focusing his attention on the young man fidgetting with the ends of his sleeves. "Harry? What do you mean?"

"You said there's nothing left for you at Hogwarts. I'm at Hogwarts."

"Are you asking me to stay?"

"No," the brunette looked uncomfortable. "I mean yes. I mean - look. You've just come back, and I have so many questions, and-"

"So ask me." The vampire settled down onto the beach suddenly and drew his long arms behind his head, stretching out like a cat. He regarded the awkward young man before him and jerked his elbow to indicate Harry should sit. The wizard made a face but sat down all the same, spreading his cloak out to sit on. The moments ticked by.

"When you went to the cave," Harry began, "what happened? I thought Voldemort had got you or something. All the papers said Miss Synthra was a Death Eater."

"I would've thought you of all people knew better than to trust the papers. Suki was never a Death Eater, but she was with the Dark Lord." Draco settled back into the stones, wriggling to mould them to his shape. "We suspect Blaise Zabini got wind of my letters to you when you triggered the trap in my dorm. Which is probably about the time when he planted this." From his pocket he withdrew a tiny silver scarab beetle and tossed it to Harry, who examined it with a sort of horrified fascination. "Dumbldore's just been looking at it and he agrees that it's a tracking device for the Dark Lord. Blaise's family were Death Eaters so he would've had access to all sorts of Dark objects. This one in particular must have led them right to us from inside one of our letters because one night a whole load of them came from nowhere. We stunned several of them but we were pretty outnumbered, even when our guards came to help. Five vampires against a dozen or so Death Eaters weren't great odds, so Blaze managed to get me to a portkey but Suki didn't reach us in time and got left behind. We don't know what happened to her after that, except Bellatrix had her chained up for most of the battle. Blaze and I have been with the rest of the clan."

"Where will you go now?"

"Wherever we can. I'm not sure wether I'm ever going back to the Manor, but that doesn't bother me. We'll try Scandinavia first. Blaze wants to find some potions ingredients in the mountains there for a potion he thinks may cure Suki, so I have no objections."

"How is she?"

"She was hit by multiple killing curses from the Death Eaters. Normally enough to kill a vampire, but she's still breathing. Just. Turns out the killing curses weren't enough to kill two vampires." His eyes grew watery as he looked out over the rippling water. " Blaze lost her, and the baby. Madame Pomfrey says she won't wake up."

The pregnancy book in Draco's room suddenly made sense. Harry looked at the young man who sat beside him and almost reached out to comfort him, but stopped. He sensed time was running out, but sat for a while listening to the sound of breathing. Only his breaths sounded in the heated silence.

"Before, you said you weren't human."

Draco flexed his arm muscles before plucking a pebble from beside him and tossing it towards the lake. It skimmed until the tiny stone was out of sight. The blond hoped that would answer Harry's question, but answered it verbally nonetheless, looking the brunette straight in the glittering emerald eyes despite the self control he had to exert to keep himself a safe distance away.

"After my third moon, I had a day where I had a transformation every couple of hours whilst my body changed. I'm stronger, faster and taller, and I can control my hunger." Draco, partly out of grief and sadness, partly out of a need for comfort and partly because he couldn't help himself said: " Watch."

Harry's breath caught in his throat as Draco threw caution to the wind and leaned across suddenly to tilt Harry's chin upwards, exposing the tanned neck and throbbing pulse. A flash of something flickered through the silver eyes but it was quelled as soon as it came, but Harry's heartbeat only accelerated. A dull ache entered the pit of his stomach at a sudden realisation.

"So…you don't need me any more?" He asked softly, unsuccessfully attempting to read the vampire's expression. Draco's sad features had rearranged into something completely different.

"Harry." Draco Malfoy said very slowly and deliberately. "You're the only thing that's vaguely normal in my life. I'll always need you." And with that, he tilted Harry's chin up again with a long pale finger and pressed his lips to Harry's, feeling his inhuman heart surge into life at the sparks that danced in his mouth. Harry melted and edged closer, grinning into the kiss as the vampire wound an arm wound his waist and for a moment he felt perfectly at peace with the world. He moved his lips a little in response to the pressure and his brain went hazy as vanilla washed over his senses. After a moment or two the pair drew apart and Draco looked at Harry, first with joy and then with a smile flickering around his face at the equally entranced expression he saw before him.

They lay there in the hot afternoon sun for an hour or so until the bell tolled four and Draco pressed a kiss to Harry's forhead and rose to his feet.

"Wh-?" Harry started as he was brought back to reality with the sound of retreating footsteps. "Draco!"

"I have to go, Harry. You know I do."

Harry scrambled to his feet and jogged to catch up, tugging on the wrist of the Malfoy. "Don't?"

Draco turned to him as Blaze appeared by the wrought iron school gates, wheeling Suki. "I have to, Harry. It's something I need to do, I need to leave." Draco was getting more and more upset, his eyes welling up and mouth turned down at the corners as he looked at the forlorn Harry. "You know I'll never forget you, don't you?"

"Don't talk like that," pleaded Harry. "I'll see you in the summer."

Draco shook his head. "The war's not over yet, Harry. There are still Death Eaters out there who'll want revenge and I can't risk running into them. I can't write, either, after what happened with the scarab - I have to go into hiding again. When I say goodbye, I'll mean it for a long time."

Harry snaked his arms around the young man's waist and buried his head into the muscled shoulder, feeling arms return the embrace just as tightly. Draco drew back a little so their foreheads pressed together and he looked at the Boy Who Lived with eyes full of grief and sorrow before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Goodbye." Then with a last heart-wrenching look he started off towards the gates. He only looked back once.

Harry Potter watched the man he loved walk out of the gates and vanish from his life just as the first gusts of wind brought the scent of rain from far away. The scent was tinged with vanilla.

* * *

Thank you all for reading. Epilogue is the next chapter


	27. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Diagon Alley was crowded by anyone's standards. The festival marking the tenth anniversary of the Dark Lord's defeat had brought people by their thousands and the streets bulged with throngs of witches, wizards and their children, eating ice cream and looking with varying degrees of interest at the stalls crammed into the cobbled walkways. Bertie Bott himself stood at a stall of his famous sweets, and if you looked through the crowd you could see Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall stocking up on sherbet lemons from the stall of a small man in tartan trousers.

It was in this very street that Harry Potter also wandered down, hood drawn up over his head but a wide smile adorning his features as he looked at the festival going on all around him. He was tall and tanned, with broad, muscular shoulders and unruly black hair that still refused to be tamed. His jeans were barely visible under the thick cloak he wore to these events - without it he would have even more trouble getting down the street. The first year he came he shook over a hundred people's hands in the first half hour alone and whilst he smiled politely he secretly hated all the attention.

BANG!

He started and turned in the direction of the noise. One rather large, expensive looking stall had expanded, causing the street to transform to accommodate the stage it now housed. On the platform stood a young couple swigging potions under the watchful eye of a tall blond witch wearing a large hooded cloak and stirring a cauldron. A handsome young brunette stood near her, addressing the crowd collecting before him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls for your entertainment today, we present a demonstration of some of the best potions from the latest collection by the internationally acclaimed S.S industries - so which of you wonderful lot care to volunteer, eh?" A sea of hands rose up as Harry approached, intrigued. He watched as the selected volunteers climbed up to replace the other young couple who apparently had drunk some sort of hallucinogenic and were currently exclaiming in high pitched voices that there were too many pink squirrels around for their liking.

The act only lasted ten minutes or so but Harry found himself laughing heartily at the unfortunate men and women who volunteered to test the potion that turned them into muggle household appliances that had numerous eccentricities. And back again, of course. He particularly liked the twitchy toaster. Whilst he watched, the heavy curtain at the back of the stage was opened and shut a few times as a man carried ingredients across to the hooded woman making the potions. And it was only as he looked at these people that a smile began to creep across his face.

Blaze Sabarra was carrying toadstools in one hand, and in the crook of his opposite arm he carried bottles of every different colour imaginable towards the vigorously brewing form of Suki Synthra at the side of the stage. Every so often he would pause on one of his trips to slip a hand around her waist and give her another scroll of parchment, which she would spread out in front of her after pecking him on the cheek and checking on the bundle of fabric fastened to his back with a great loop of cloth. The child wrapped in the blanket gurgled whenever she tickled its chin.

Harry laughed out loud at the sheer joy bubbling in his stomach, but then the entire world slowed as he craned his neck and spotted a flash of platinum blond hair behind the stage. Forgetting all else he immediately started manoeuvring his way through the crowd towards the rear and scanned it for any blond vampires, but the curtain sheltered alcoves appeared empty.

* * *

"Draco! Pass me the sun vial, quickly!"

"A please wouldn't kill you, I'm sure," drawled the man in reply, tossing the required tube into the waiting hands of one of the helpers. The same bloody helper that had just sent him on a wild goose chase to find a non existent ingredient. Irritated, Draco tried to tune out the incessant cheering and noise from the opposite side of the curtain. It was giving him a headache. That, and something was bugging him, tapping away at his subconscious; but he was too besieged by noise and sights and smells to figure out what it was.

Smells.

His eyes flew open as realisation smacked him in the face and he took a deep breath, focusing on the particular musky scent he would know anywhere. Draco's heart leapt into life and he sprung to his feet, sprinting in the direction his instincts pulled him; down the small stairs, round curtains, over boxes- and there he was. Harry Potter stood, looking lost with his back to Draco.

"Hello Harry."

The man whipped round and the pair saw each other for the first time in ten long years.

"Draco, now pass the moon vial! Draco?" Hissed the oblivious helper.

"Fuck the moon," Draco muttered, and with four strides closed the gap between him and Harry.

THE END


End file.
